Of Pines and Forests
by Liliana Dragonshard
Summary: Pines; there are many of them in the forest. And I'm not talking about the trees, though. I'm talking about people. Four, specifically, in Gravity Falls. Though there have been many different Pines throughout history. Pines always stick together. When one is in trouble, all of them rise up to protect them. But before Pines, there were Evergreens . . . (Full sum inside. OC's. AU)
1. New World, Old Promises

**Edit; This now comes with a slightly longer summary. (shrugs) here it is;**

 _Stanley making it through the portal wasn't the end of crazy things to come, oh no; it was just the beginning. Through the aid of a ghostly relative, and one supposedly chained to a wall, things are about to take a more ominous turn. Bill's plans were ruined by the very energy source he depended on; surprising him with how much Willpower the kid really had through all those years. . . . years of having all your memories damaged and messed with . . . happy things twisted into unimaginable, terrifying nightmares you wish were never true._

 _A fight for power was started years ago . . . and slowly picked up speed. Stanley making it through the portal through the odds a little more in the Pines family(and friends) favor; but by only so much. Now, the real fight is beginning; one that will test every single one of them. Test their skills, challenge their ideas, and make them appreciate the win . . . or realize that they could only do so much._

* * *

 **I finished watching the series the other day, and got to thinking about what the other dimension was like, and also wanted to kinda show what I think would happen in the aftermath of the last episode. Here's a little snippet of my future work I'm gonna send out.**

 **Also, I thought 'd clear this up real quick. Since there are two Stans' now, I thought I'd share how I nicknamed them.**

 **Stanford "Ford" Pines(Grunkle Stan),**

 **Stanley "Lee" Pines(Author Stan),**

 **Fiddleford "Fiddles" McGucket**

 **That's it for now. Hope y'all enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1:** New World, Old Promises

* * *

Stanley gazed out across the strange, barren landscape. In this area of this strange new dimension, he reflected on his next course of action. The plants here were twisted and strange, more than one trying to make a meal of him. Then, there were the . . . _creatures_. They were similar to the shapeshifter, he'd discovered, and seemed to retain similar abilities, but turned into rocks or plants rather than other animals.

It made going around very dangerous. The place he'd been thrown into was barren, empty rock for a at least half a mile, shaped like a huge crater, besides what appeared to be soot and ash; but the ash was dark blue, the sky was a mix of bright pink and orange, their was no sun or moon, only a shift of light and darkness, and the plants were bright and dark crimson reds and mustard yellows, the rocks deep blue or lime green.

At first, he'd been so confused and turned around by this strange place, Stanley had temporarily managed to forget about his brother as he constructed an emergency shelter in the "Blast Zone", as he so called it. He'd just heard the shouted promise his twin had given him. It echoed through his mind, just as desperate, terrified, and heartbroken as it ever was.

 _"LEE?! I-I'll bring you back!? I'll f-find a way to bring you back, I promise!? Don't forget-!?"_ He'd never caught the end of his brothers frantic pleas. What did he want him to remember? Or not forget? What was so important that it had to be said now, when he was almost(already, potentially) gone? Stanley shook those thoughts way from his head.

He'd found strange rock formations, giant, fingernail-thin, almost rectangular formations, a wavy pattern of dark blue and lime green across it's surface. He'd found it surprisingly lightweight, and extremely durable to monster attacks. So, using some trees (the wood was a pale pink color- who made this place, a six-year-old?) as support beams, he managed to erect a small bunker near where he'd first "come in" at.

Although he was hungry most of the time, he didn't try eating the fruit that hung off the trees until a week after arriving, realizing that starving himself would do one any good. His brother promised to bring him back; that meant he had to uphold one end and hope his brother was doing the same. 'Cause if Ford was going to reactivate the machine any time soon, he had to be alive and well enough to walk through on his own.

* * *

 **Well, this would be the first bit. How do you guys like it? Please review!**


	2. Remembrances and Discoveries

**The cover-art for this story is** "After 30 years" by BeyondThePines **on** Deviantart **. Shoudl've mentioned that sooner. Anyway, enjoy! This ones longer than the last one.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2:** Remembrances and Discoveries

* * *

When the first lion's roar/atom bomb exploding/landslide-noise-times-five rocked the bunker, Stanley had scrambled off of the ground with a shout, panicking. He thought it was a monster, attempting to break in; but in a way, this was worse. He peeked out to see dark purple-brown-black storm clouds, streams of fire jetting through the sky now and then, creating those frightening, ground-shaking sounds.

Then, it began to rain; for a moment, he rejoiced, tired of drinking juice of the strange, pale red-orange fruit he'd managed to gather. He almost immediately regretted ever going outside. A drop of rain hit his left arm, eating through the material and beginning to sting his arm. In that instant, Stanley realized that the rain was not a godsend, but very, very bad news. He ducked back inside, shutting the door.

Stanley pulled out some cloth, which had once been a shirt of his, wrapping it around and around the bleeding wound, not bothering to pull of his coat first. He inspected himself quickly, recognizing how numb and completely _unfeeling_ his upper arm was around the wound. Not finding any other injuries, he sighed in relief, rubbing his arm a little, trying to get the feeling back in it.

As he lay back in his "bed", trying to go back to sleep, his thoughts wandered back to his brother, and home. He'd only been in this strange place for . . . what, two years now? He wasn't sure how long the days were here when compared to home.

 _Home_. His thoughts wandered back to when his brother had helped him out. He'd never fully realized this before entering this strange place, but he depended on his brother for a lot of things. In fact, Ford had always kept an eye on him, whether it was from bullies at school, monsters in the woods, or just plain in general when he was too stubborn to admit he was tired. He chuckled, recalling what happened the _last_ time he'd stayed up for days on end.

(-/-/-/-)

Stanley frowned over his notes, sorting through them. If this machine worked, well, just _think_ about what it could do to help mankind, and the world! But the smallest error, the tiniest miscalculation could end them all. That's why he fretted so much over it, spending three days straight in the lab at one point, much to Fiddleford and Stanford's chagrin as he refused to leave.

At one point, he'd managed to get by for four days and five nights straight on extra-strong coffee and pure stubbornness. So it goes without saying that when he woke up on the couch upstairs, under a well-worn, familiar blanket, he didn't get up right away. He distantly wondered how he'd gotten there, then noticed Ford slumped on the ground next to him, propped up by his feet, back against the couch.

He was completely out of it, a bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of him, probably from his dinner. Lee frowned, blinking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he peered closer. The soup looked untouched, and steam still curled off of it. Hearing a snore, he glanced around only to see Fiddles, collapsed in the armchair, one hand supporting his head, glasses still on.

Smiling a little, Lee sat up and began to eat the soup, feeling grateful for his friend and brother. They really did care about him, and he dug into the soup hungrily, the first real thing he'd had in a few days. Shoving the bowl back onto the table, he felt another wave of drowsiness wash over him. He grit his teeth and began to stand anyway, about to go back to the lab, but something stopped him.

Ford had stood, as well, and grabbed his shoulder, turning him around. "Lee," he began groggily, but sternly.

Lee pulled away a little. "Ford, it'll only be for a little bit. Please?" he asked, realizing somewhere in his sleep-deprived mind that he was fighting a losing battle.

Ford groaned and face-palmed at his brothers stubbornness. "Seriously? For a guy so smart, I never thought you could be this dumb." he half joked, then pressed on before his twin could protest. "Lee, listen, I know you really want to get back to work, but please get some sleep. Me and Fiddles had to drag you up here after you collapsed down there. I mean, seriously-!" he was cut off.

"I-I collapsed? What do you mean?" Lee interjected quietly.

Ford rubbed at his temples. "You were down there for so long, like, at least four hours past dinner, so Fiddles went down there to check up on you. You were completely conked out, back on the ground and legs tangled up with your chair. Kinda funny, but I, I mean, _we_ , were really worried for you." Ford explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "The way Fiddles came shrieking up the stairs, well, I thought he'd looked into a Gremgroblems eyes or something." He chuckled.

Lee found himself grinning a little, despite himself. "Yeah, I guess sleeping a little longer couldn't hur-" he was cut off by a huge yawn. ". . .hurt, I guess." he finished tiredly. Ford chuckled lightly, guiding him back to the couch.

"Get some sleep, bro. Oh, and I might have to remind you, but Fiddles has you on strict bed rest. You've been working too hard, man! Just stay away from the lab for a few days or he'll lock you out for a month like last time." Ford instructed his sleepy twin, a bit of a joking tone mixed with his seriousness. Stanley only yawned and nodded, curling up under the blanket.

* * *

 **So, yeah, cute little fluffy moment between the two. If anyone has any questions or requests, don't be afraid to review/om them over! I'll check 'em over and see if they'll fit in with my plans. you could get lucky and it'll already be there!**


	3. Past Ventures of the Mystery Trio

**Thought I'd do some fluffier moments among the Mystery Trio. You know, just the three boys hunting down monsters and the like, hanging out and such.**

 ** _WARNING:_  
** **Mentions Of Blood And Plenty Of Violence. Read At Your Own Risk.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3:** Past Ventures of the Mystery Trio

* * *

Lee, Ford, and Fiddles peeked out through the bushes, trying to be stealthy. In front of them was a a small, winding path that no human could've made. The Stans' Twins birthday had been yesterday, both of them now eleven years old. Fiddles birthday was a few weeks at now, leaving him at ten. They looked at the tiny trail that wandered to and fro, covered with the footprints of tiny feet.

"See guys? I told you!" Fiddles whispered to his friends, squinting at the tracks. "This is a fairy trail, I just know it!"

Lee grinned, but Ford frowned. "I thought fairies were tinier than that." he muttered, rubbing at a bruise on his arm. Man, who knew that a squirrel the size of a log could be so vicious? They were still working on figuring out how it got so big.

Lee lightly shoved him, grinning still. "Ah, don't be like that, Ford. You never know what could be out here." he shrugged. "For all we know, it could be dwarves." he finished.

Lee was wearing a dark blue plaid shirt accented with white, and regular overalls. Ford wore a bright red plaid shirt with dark green accents and matching overalls to his brother. Fiddles had on jeans, a short sleeved white shirt and dusty tan-brown button-up coat. That and his small pair of spectacle glasses had lead to much teasing as they went into the forest, the Twins calling him "Professor" and "Doc McGucket" and so forth.

The three boys began to follow the trail, laughing quietly and whispering and joking, as young boys will do. As they followed the tracks, however, they failed to notice the bloodstains beginning to appear on the trail, at its edges. There were also marks, scrapes and the like, in the dirt, leaves, and pine needles, implying that something had been dragged through there.

In the end, just as they were coming across to a large clearing full of small creatures did Lee notice. Immediately, he held his arms out, halting the other two boys. The stopped, looking quizzically at their companion. He motioned first to the large bloodstains on the ground, then pointed quickly for a larger set of bushes to their right, pushing and pulling Fiddles and Ford, respectively, in, just as the patter of footsteps met their ears from the trail they'd just stood on.

Peering out cautiously, they all watched with a sort of awed surprise as little grey-bearded men with tall, pointy red caps came down the trail, dragging a large, dead rabbit behind them. Another one, who had brown hair instead of grey, seemed to be their leader. He sure acted like it, anyway.

"Come on guys, it's just over this way. Hey, what's this." the company of dwarves(they certainly _looked_ like those paranormal creatures) They were eyeing the boys tracks, which thankfully didn't seem to give them away.

"Probably just some human kids lost in the woods, Jeff. Remember that little brown haired guy a few years ago? He was adorable." One dwarf told his leader, chuckling a little.

"Yeah, and costly. Those bigger humans were trampling all over the place after that, looking for him. I don't care how cute he was, Steve, but he caused is a good bit of trouble; now let's go cook this thing and eat, I'm starving!" Jeff replied, the other dwarves giving a cheer as they started to drag the rabbit into the clearing.

Many more dwarves had already set up several cook-fires around the clearing, roasting rabbits, and a few trout, even an eagle was being plucked and cut up nearby with little stone blades. Fiddles was squinting at them, as if trying to recall a long-lost memory, just on the brink of being found.

I feel like I've been here before. . ." he muttered.

Ford and Lee were too busy whispering to eachother in excitement, lightly elbowing eachother. Lee was taking down notes, writing down descriptions, locations, and sketching up a rough, general picture of the dwarves on his notepad.

Then, Fiddles slapped his forehead and exclaimed, "Dear Sweet Sally of Sarsaparilla Roots, I remember!"

The twins looked at him, quieting swiftly. Whenever Fiddles made that kind of statement or phrase, it meant he was freaking out, scared, or really excited. This time, he seemed a little freaked out and a little excited.

"I think I was here when I was little. I was 'round five years old, and I got lost in the woods during a camp out with my parents. I found all these little bearded men who looked like Santa's helpers!" Lee and Ford glanced at eachother. "Anyway, they lead me back towards town or a road I guess, and Ma and Pa found me not to long afterwards."

"So, were they dangerous?" Ford asked, straight to the point for once. He preferred to know when something might try to hurt his little gang of family. Though he might never admit it, Fiddles seemed like the littler brother in a band of brothers, like the three musketeers.

Fiddles shrugged. "They didn't do anything to hurt me, just kinda played with me for a bit before leading me somewhere I could be found by my parents. I can't really recall. . ." he finished, looking across the clearing again.

Lee added this to his notes, as well as a dot on the map he and Fiddles had hand-drawn, then tucked it away. "Maybe we should go now." he mentioned quietly, realizing how they'd raised their voices after Fiddles revelation. The others didn't have a chance to respond, because all of a sudden they were jumped, several of the little gnomes latching onto the three boys, dragging them into the clearing.

The other gnomes gasped, and Jeff walked up quickly. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" he shouted. "What, just, what do you think you're doing?!" he demanded of the three boys, who were becoming scared out of their wits.

"We were looking for fairies!" Fiddles blurted, telling the truth. "We saw the bloodstains on the trail, though, and got scared. W-we thought that if we f-found the fairies, they'd h-help us get back h-home. W-we're lost." Fiddles always stuttered when he lied, but only the Twins knew that; they might get out of here, after all.

Jeff pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. We'll lead you out, but you can't ever come back, alright? Darn kids." he muttered the last part, walking towards one of the fire pits, commanding a few others to get them out of there.

"So, you guys are dwarves?" Ford suddenly asked, and all the gnomes stared at him.

"Actually, we're gnomes. My names Steve. Come'on." he lead the three youngsters, gnawing on a cooked rabbit leg as they went. He seemed a little more tolerant of the three than the others, and when asked why, he only shrugged.

"Kids will be kids, whatever species they are. And some kids like to explore and poke their noses where they shouldn't. I'd say you're pretty lucky; you could've come across a less forgiving species." Steve explained.

Soon, they were in familiar woods, able to go on their merry way.

"Thanks for helping us; sorry for intruding." Lee told the gnome politely.

Steve grinned a little, tipping his tall hat. "No worries, kids. See ya'!" he called out, then disappeared into the trees.

* * *

Ford and Fiddles were still tidying up around in the bunker when Lee left. It was the (more) secret one, away from their home. They were inspecting one of the creatures they'd found, a shape-shifter, for the past few weeks. Lee had gone home, since he was hungry; plus they drew straws several times and he won going home early for that week.

The shape-shifter seemed intelligent to a degree, but none of them could figure out how it got in there, nor where it came from. The twenty-year old friends were poring over their notes. Well, Ford was messing around with the shape-shifter while Fiddles was working. He was planning on pulling an all-nighter, and Ford was there for two reasons.

Play around and "study" the shape-shifter, and help Fiddles hide the entrance if he decided to leave before tomorrow morning. Fiddleford was often teased about his lack of strength and height, but his natural smarts when it came to electronics and quick thinking when it came to dealing with monsters(like the gnomes, smart-mouthing little bastards) made him a good, reliable team member within the group.

There was quite a bit of clanging and clanking. Fiddles was getting annoyed, but held his ground, hoping for it to stop. Whenever he tried to quiet the shape-shifter, Stanford would always jump on the defensive, saying he was teaching it. It was never really worth the fight to try and shut them up. It only wasted work time. So, Fiddles stayed put.

The racket only got worse, louder with some strangled shouts and menacing, playful laughter. Fiddles, always the worrier, got up from the table and approached the area of the bunker where the shape-shifter was kept in a cage built of solid steel.

"Ford? Stanford? What's going on? Are you alright?" he called, only to be met with frantic shouts for help and the wrenching of metal. He ran into the room to see two Ford's. He froze, stunned.

Both were bruised and scraped up. One lay on the ground in front of the destroyed cage with a black eye. The one still standing held it's cut, bleeding right arm.

"Ford . . ?" Fiddles got out. "Wh-what's going on here?" he choked out. _'I can't tell whose who . . . oh, gosh darn it all, what do I do?!'_ he thought to himself frantically.

The standing man turned sharply, only to hiss in pain, nearly toppling over when his left leg buckled. Fiddleford couldn't just stand there and watch his friend get hurt; he'd seen the man take on a lot of monsters, ever since they were kids, and hoped that he was choosing the right man.

Slinging his friends left arm around his shoulder, he held him up. "Ford, what happened?" he asked, glancing down at the unconscious "man" on the ground. It had a busted lip, that slowly trickled with red liquid. Something felt . . . off about this.

Ford grimaced, using his other arm to wipe at his front, where a small trickle of green liquid oozed from a scrape hidden under his shirt. "Dang son of a b-"

"Language, Stanford!" Fiddles snapped. _He really is the worst at that_ , Fiddles mused to himself. _Cussing and all that rubbish._

Stanford grit his teeth, probably from pain, and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right McGucket." he muttered. Fiddles frowned as he lead his friend and partner along. He was never called McGucket now a'days by the twins except when they were teasing him with a "Doc" at the front of it or something. His suspicions deepened, but Fiddles couldn't quite figure out what was wrong.

"The shape-shifter was trying to escape. It wanted to play dress up and turned into me. I won, as you can see, but it wasn't easy. Dang bastard seemed to know all of my moves." he grimaced, leaning against the wall they were passing to slap a hand over his cut arm again. When he pulled his hand away, there was no blood; at least, it wasn't red.

It was green. Blood wasn't green, and while bloodstains from the person (or creature) you're fighting can easily be explained(or fibbed about), but having it come from inside of you?. Fiddles immediately realized his mistake, but buried his panic and worry by putting on a concerned face. He had to play this out just right.

"Did it cut itself on the bars of the cage when it escaped? There was quite a lot of blood." he said instead, letting a little of his worry come through.

"Stanford" nodded, grimacing still. "Yeah, it did. Don't know what it turned into, but it was crazy! We should never have trusted it." "he" finished.

Fiddles moved to support the monster in disguise, silently agreeing with him. _You can't be trusted, shape-shifter. I gotta get back to the real Ford and warn Lee!_ He thought to himself, leading them into a small side room. It had a table and chairs.

"I'll go grab the first aid kit. You really shouldn't be walking on that bad leg." Fiddles told the creature, sitting him in a chair before turning towards the door.

"Wait, McGucket!" the creature called.

"Yes?" he turned, nearly out the door. He had a bad feeling about this.

"You aren't going anywhere." the creature snarled, standing easily and rushing the much smaller man. Fiddles yelped in surprise, darting out the door and slamming it closed. He managed to barricade the door with an adjacent piece of piping, just as 'fore monster thumped against it, splintering the wood. Fiddles didn't wait for it to come out but ran, as fast as he could, for the real Stanford.

The man was just beginning to sit up, blearily looking around he'd lost his glasses and everything was blurred. When Fiddles came barreling around the corner, headed right for him, he didn't think; he just acted. He ended up sucker-punching him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Ford blinked once, twice, then gasped in realization, scrambling over.

"Oh god, Fiddles, I'm sorry! I didn't, I mean, I was trying to . . ." he trailed off as he realized his breath was being wasted. He'd knocked the man out cold. Instead, he pulled him closer and scooped him up, slowly standing and retreating deeper into the bunker, hoping to find a good hiding spot while they planned to re-capture the darn thing.

 _Several hours later. . . ._

Stanley approached the bunker, expecting to see it closed up; but it wasn't. It was still open. Neither Fiddles nor Ford would've left it like this . . .unless they were still inside. The paranoid part of his mind kicking in, Lee cautiously and quietly snuck into the bunker. He moved slowly, looking for any signs of distress or fighting. He was hoping against hope that nothing seriously bad had happened, that perhaps they'd just placed a bet.

"Yeah, like a calculus formulas race, as if." he muttered under his breath, pressing onward. Lights were either on or off in odd places, but the first solid "hint" that something was wrong was the splintered, broken down door to one of the smaller work spaces. What unsettled him most about it was that the door fragments were scattered outside, not in.

His friend and brother hadn't tried to barricade themselves in there, they'd tried to lock up a paranormal creature in there. He continued on, following footsteps, clawmarks, bits of green and red blood, and so on until he heard it. The sound of fighting, gasping, and low curses. Hurrying, Stanley skidded to a stop at the scene before him, stunned.

Ford was unconscious, crumpled in a heap on the far wall. Right in front of him, two "Fiddleford"s fought one another, each trying to gain a vantage point. They were both weakening, he could tell, and one held a scalpel. The other was holding the hand that held the scalpel, trying to keep from getting cut further. Both had green and red bloodstains on them.

"Fiddleford!?" he shouted, rushing forward to help. "What the heck is going on here?!" he demanded. He needed to get to his brother, but had to help Fiddles first.

Only question was, who was who?

The one with the scalpel yelped out, "The shape-shifter escaped! He chased me down here and hurt Stanford when he tried to save me!"

The other lashed out, kicking the other sharply on the knee. "I'm the real Fiddles! Ford carried me down here and I woke up in time to see the shape-shifter try to slice his throat open!"

"He's lying, don't listen to him!"

"I'm the real Fiddleford!"

"No your not, I am!"

"That's not me!"

"I'm the only me, you impostor!"

Stanley couldn't tell which was which. He wasn't sure what to do, so quickly skirted the edge of the fight and checked on Ford. He was unconscious, a long, shallow cut on his right shoulder and a smaller, but deeper one on his left leg. A first aid kit lay nearby, half open, the contents jostled around. He quickly dug through the supplies, finding a clean enough roll of bandages and started to wrap both up.

Then, Lee heard the tear of cloth and flesh, a sickening sound, and jerked his head towards the fight. The fight had taken a turn for the worst, one of the "Fiddleford"s staring at the scalpel that had been thrusted into his gut. Disbelief followed by terror and pain washed across his face, and it only took a light shove from the other to knock him to the ground, where he didn't move except to place his hands over the wound, but didn't touch the sharp object.

"Dear sweet Sally of Sarsaparilla Roots . . ." the stabbed man mumbled out, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes.

Only Fiddles said that. There was no possible way for the shape-shifter to know something that dated back so far.

Lee stood and rushed the shape-shifter, managing to catch him off guard. After a brief scuffle, he managed to catch the monster in a choke hold, that it couldn't escape from no matter what form it took. He was holding tight enough to half-choke him, cutting off the amount of oxygen it could breath in. Dragging it away, he managed to shove it into a freezing-tube.

"You try and hurt one member of the Mystery Trio, you get all the rest in on the fight. Oh, and by the way," he told the creature coldly and harshly, hitting the "FREEZE" button. "It was _'ice_ knowing ya'." he finished, the pun coming to him naturally.

The creature screeched at him, taking on it's natural form, staring hatefully at Stanley before it froze over completely. Stanley wasted no time running back to the others, hoping it wasn't to late to save Fiddles.

* * *

Lee carried Fiddles in his arms bridle style, letting Ford lean on his shoulder. While the tired inventor had insisted he was okay after they'd shoved the shape-shifter into a cryosleep chamber, he wasn't. He'd recieved several shallow cuts from the scalpel, besides nicks, scrapes, spraining his ankle, oh, and the _giant freaking wound in his stomach._

He'd definitely lost a little to much blood at that point, so they had no choice but to go the hospital for some more "professional" help.

"What should we tell the hospital about this?" Lee asked his brother, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't awaken Fiddles, who'd fallen into a fitful doze. They'd patched one another up real quick with the first aid supplies they had. Luckily, Stanley had taken medical classes in both high school and college.

"That we were attacked, what else?" Ford muttered out sarcastically, trying to keep as little weight as possible on his injured leg.

Lee sighed in response. "We'll figure it out later, I guess, but we could say it was a bear or something. That might buy us some thinking time, at least." he replied.

" . . .whatever, let's just go." Ford mumbled in response.

Stanley sighed and nodded, leading them off. Needless to say, they did their best to make sure the shape-shifter would never escape again.

* * *

 **Okay, so, yeah, there's blood. The Trio find the gnomes as kids and fight the shape-shifter a little later on in life, what else is knew? Don't worry, more on the whole "Crayon Dimension" stuff next chapter or so.**

 **Please review, and requests are still welcome. :-D**


	4. Reunions - In and Out of the Portal

**Back again! As you can all see, the chapter length has increased a lot. My apologies for the shortness of the first two. Read on!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4:** Reunions - In and Out of the Portal

* * *

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. Sometimes, it felt so, so . . . hopeless. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't have his journals, so he couldn't document any of this to distract himself, guilt tore away at him, a guilt he didn't fully understand at times. As if he'd forgotten something, something important that he'd meant to tell his brother.

He wracked his brain, over and over and over and over again, trying to figure it out, with little success. When the next acid-rainstorm came, Stanley dropped the fruit he had just grabbed, snagged his make-shift basket and ran for the hills. He managed to get inside the bunker with very little acid getting on him, which he was most grateful for.

Taking a bit of juice, he made another mark on the wall; one of hundreds. He'd been stuck here for three years today. He held back sobs, instead stretching out on the pile of enormous leaves that served as a minuscule barrier from the rocky ground. Unwillingly, his thoughts turned to how he ended up here in the first place. These memories were crystal clear to him, despite how long ago it was.

 ***FLASHBACK***

 _Fiddles, Ford, and Lee had been ready to go with the portal. Ford, trying to be the brave guy that he was, had volunteered to go in first. The other two men held the rope, the other end tied snugly around his brothers waist. They gave Fiddles the thumbs up, and he hit the switch. The device sparked and rumbled to life, the portal beginning to grow inside._

 _Fiddles dashed back out to them quickly, grabbing onto the rope with Lee as Ford, being mere yards away instead of half way across the room, began to float towards the portal. He flailed for moment in surprise, then flashed them a thumbs up. The other two men grinned, one in excitement and other in relief. Lee was absolutely ecstatic over this victory, but Fiddles, well, Fiddles was Fiddles. He worried over everything._

 _Then, something went wrong. The portal spat out blue lightning, catching the rope on fire in a spot; and it began to spread towards Stanford, but not him and Fiddles. Ford began to panic, trying to untie the snug knot that kept the rope around his waist. He was still being tugged by the portals strong grasp, yet was still far enough away to escape it; the rope was no longer a lifeline, but an instrument of pain if the fire spread to him._

 _Thinking fast, Lee, took their end of the rope and laced it around a support beam, then ran for his brother, who was still panicking, shouting in terror. The portal was beginning to drag in other things, now, too, besides just the Pines Twin. The rope had burned away to nothing by the time Lee grabbed his brothers hand. He was clinging to the charred end of the rope, still tied down to the beam._

 _"Just hang on!" he shouted over the noise that was surfacing. "McGucket! Shut it off, now!" he yelled to his friend, who only nodded, crawling on all fours, as fast as he could, for the emergency fail safe. The portal was getting stronger, messing up all the gravity and pulling everything into it. Meanwhile, Ford had managed to reach out and grasp Lee around the waist, with both arms. He was trembling with fear, even as his brother began to slowly drag them away form the portals hungry, circular maw._

 _Once he made it down the rope by a few feet, Lee ground in his heels, held the rope tightly with one hand before taking the loose end and wrapping it around his brothers waist, tying it securely, but in a way that it could still be undone, unlike the last knot. All of a sudden, something lurched, hard. Lee lost his grip and went sailing towards the portal._

 _In his shock, he couldn't make a sound; but when he bumped into a pole, he latched onto it instantly without thinking or questioning it. He recognized it as a part of the fail-safe; after Fiddles turned the three keys, the top would snap off and he could smack the red button, turning the machine off. He heard the muted_ pop _as the lid came off, and he reached up with his right hand to shut it off._

 _Before he could, however, something collided harshly into his left shoulder, knocking him off balance. He let go of the pole, gripping his shoulder from the pain, a shrill cry escaping his lips. He was flying straight for the portal now. Lee caught Ford's wide, desperate eyes, and felt heartache stir within him._

 _Reaching quickly into his coat, he yanked out journal number 1; he had already hidden the other two away. He threw it with all of his might, pleased when it landed on the ground, far enough away that it wouldn't get dragged in. "Happy birthday, Stan!" Lee shouted to his twin, nearly in the portal. Ford was shell-shocked, heart broken, and desperate._

 _He'd seen his twins apologetic, regretful expression. "LEE?! I-I'll bring you back!? I'll f-find a way to bring you back, I promise!? Don't forget-!?"_

 _Lee would never know what his brothers next words were; he'd been pulled into the portal. He thought he'd seen Fiddles, putting on a brave face and lining up with the control lever, launching himself for the fail-safe button just before he tumbled into the crazy dimension._

 ***END FLASHBACK***

Stanley shook it away, shook away his heartache-filled memories, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Three years. . . three danged bloody years in this heck-hole . . . oh, Ford. . . I really hope you're holding up alright without me, brother." he whispered, beginning to curl into a small ball. Then, all of a sudden, he heard a sound; so familiar, so distant in his memories, but it was there;

Pulling on his goggles over his cracked glasses and hood over his head, Stanley cautiously peered out into the diminishing acid rain. What he saw shocked, concerned, and filled him with joy all at once.

 _He remembered me . . .he remembered me!_ Stanley thought, then, quickly, he moved, running towards the portal. He paused when he reached it, taking a few deep breaths before stepping through.

When he did, he saw the partially-destroyed remains of the underground lab, four figures, and the first journal. Walking over towards it, he leaned down, pressing his six-fingered hand to the hand on the book; a perfect fit. Feeling the spark of remembrance and the sharp prick of heart-wrenching memories, from the past; just him, Fiddles, and Ford, running around looking for monsters, hanging out, and generally just being friends.

He silently, inwardly stopped the sudden onslaught of memories, then picked up the journal, tucking it into a special pocket on his coat. He did not recognize anyone before him. He was hit with a form of betrayal. He would(did) understand if(he did) Ford had chosen not to save him, despite the promise; one man wasn't worth the risk of the whole world.

"What? Who _is_ that?" asked a young, brown haired and brown eyed boy, that reminded Stanley of him and his brother when they were kids. He spotted a large, fat man, a girl who looked similar to the boy, and an elderly man that could almost be Pop.

"The author of the journals," the man paused, painstakingly familiar brown eyes filled with hope, dread, and a small bit of heart ache. Even his voice was familiar, but he didn't recognize this man at all. Stanley pulled off the goggles and hood, fixing a hard stare on the old man who would _dare_ use the portal. He must've found and stolen the journals. He gave one to his freaking brother, for crying out loud!  Who was he?!

"My brother." the older man finished. Stanley froze, his expression set in that disapproving, angry glare, while on the inside, he was moving at the speed of light. His mind compared the man before him to the young man he knew as his brother, just three years ago.

"Is this the part where on of us faints?" asked the girl, standing next to her brother. No, more than just a brother; her twin, he distantly realized.

The fat baby-man next to her laughed a little and replied, "Oh ho ho, I am so on it, dude." then promptly fell on his back. The twins were staring at him with a mixture of shock and realization, the boy with a bit of a respectful awe in his eyes.

Stanley focused on the old man. There was no way in heck he was gonna believe that this old geezer was his brother. Instead, he walked forward with determined strides, a hint of a snarl on his face, left lip twitching upwards to expose his teeth. It certainly seemed to freak the old man out.

"You're not my brother." he growled out, voice rusty from lack of use. He could see the hurt on the mans face, but ignored it, his rage building up and knocking all rational thoughts aside.  
"You're just a greedy old man who stole the me and my brothers journals and activated a device that could destroy the world." he continued, with a sort of calm-angry tone despite his facial expressions and body language.

Confusion and fear flashed across the elderly mans face, a fear that seemed familiar somehow. "L-listen, I know it's difficult to beleive, but I've been working so hard on this, and I-"

Stanley socked the man in the face before he could continue. The man stared at him, a hand reaching up to touch his busted lip, feeling the blood. He was clearly stunned, confused and hurt. The girl and boy gasped in unison, one holding the other back; Stanley couldn't tell out of the corner of his eye who was trying to rush at them and who was holding him/her back, but ignored it for now.

"No!? I don't care what you have to say, old man. You could've destroyed the world; and for what?" he demanded rhetorically, not expecting him to answer as he advanced on the old man, who'd backed up a pace.

"I-I was trying to save someone important to me. . ." he replied softly, a sort of broken, hollow sound to the words.

Lee gritted his teeth. He'd been through situations where it felt like there was only one way to save somebody you cared for. He couldn't just soften up now. It was the principle of the matter; he could've destroyed the world, and everyone in it.

"One person is not worth the life of every other creature on the planet." he ground out sternly, cocking a fist back to begin another attack.

"My brother is . . . Stanley, I thought that. . .it's been thirty years, and-" he was, again, stopped, but this time when Lee grabbed him by the collar of his suit, pulling him closer to his face.

"How. The. Heck. Do. You. Know! That! Name?! Who are you?!" Stanley demanded, releasing the man to walk towards the portal frame; thankfully, it had almost flickered entirely out of existence, leaving a dim amount of light to see by.

"Stanley, it's really me, Stanford . . . I know you're confused, but it's still me . . . you, me, and Fiddles were . . ." Stanford trailed off his Stanley turned sharply, disbelieving, stunned, and frightened expressions flitting about inside him, while his face had set itself into the same disapproving, hateful stare he'd sent when he first same through the portal.

After facing off with monsters that only grew more aggressive the more fear you displayed for three years, well, let's just say that expression became default in unexpected, stressful situations.

"The Mystery Trio . . ." Lee finished for him in a quiet voice, one that still filled the room and was heard by all. At that moment, the girl ran up to Stanford, tugging on his suit. He lowered a hand to ruffle her hair and pull her closer.

It was all too much for Stanley. Too many different things warred in his head, too many things that just didn't make sense.

 _His brother looked so . . ._ _old_ _, and it had only been three years._

 _Why had he opened up the portal? It said so right in the journals! The portal could destroy the universe!_

 _Who were the children? Why did he get the subtle impression of himself and his brother when he looked at them?_

 _He was back home, after fighting for survival every minute of every hour of every day for three years; and now, he didn't need to fight._

Stanley wasn't sure what happened. One moment, his steadfast stare was on Ford, and he was upright, feeling just fine. The next thing he knew, he had fallen over to the debris-filled ground, and felt quite dizzy, and numb-sharp pain on his cheek. He distantly heard Ford and the kids shout in alarm, but his eyes slid shut, suddenly too heavy to open. His whole body felt heavy, as if his blood had turned to lead.

Everything washed away, and he fell into a deep sleep, the kind of deep sleep he hadn't had the privilege of having for three years. In the other dimension, he slept lightly, between the monsters constantly trying to make a meal out of him and the strange thunderstorms(best comparison he had) he rarely slept more than a few minutes to an hour at a time.

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 **That just happened. Requests are still open, people. While I do have a plotline and direction, little side bits like the last chapter are definitely welcome, so don't be shy. Later!**


	5. Warnings and Bills

**Back again! Sorry for the delay. Enjoy!**

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 **Chapter 5:** Warnings and Bills

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 _Stanford's (POV)_

For several long moments, Stanley only stared at me. The disproving, hate-filled glare cut into my very soul. After about a minute, I took a small step closer, away from Mabel, beginning to speak. "Stanley, look, please don't be mad at me. I've been trying so hard to help fix this mess. I never meant for you to go through the portal . . . I've been trying hard to bring you back, I . . .Stanley?" I paused.

My brothers expression had changed to one of stunned, bewildered exhaustion. I didn't like the looks of this. "Stanley? What's wrong?" I took another step closer. His eyes drifted over to mine, glazed over, dull and tired. He was swaying back and forth, then finally fell forward, flat on his face.

"STANLEY!?" I shouted, racing over and dropping to my knees next to him. I didn't care that he hadn't believed me, or that he punched me in the face. I sorta deserved that, I guess. There had been warnings in the journal(s) after all, and I did ignored them.

"Grandpa!?" I heard Mabel cry out, then Dipper hesitantly shushed her, but it was at the back of my mind. I quickly, gently rolled Lee over, pulling him up so his head and shoulders were resting in my lap. His eyes were closed, and something sharp had made a long cut on his right cheek. Tearing off a part of my sleeve, I placed it over the bleeding wound.

"Come on, Lee, wake up . . . you're tougher than this, what happened to you in there?" I muttered to myself. Suddenly, there were shouts, and malicious, echoing laughter. I looked around, spotting Soos(who had woken up) and the kids on the far side of the room. He was clutching them protectively, all three gazing up at Bill Cipher as he floated before them.

"Well well well, if it isn't trusting little Shooting Star, betrayed Pine Tree and confused Question Mark." Bill paused, looking back at the Stan Twins. "And, of course, stubborn Crescent Spike and not-so-old Round-Glasses. I can see that most everyone is here. You won't believe what old Round-Glasses and Crescent Spike have been through, you three," he pointed his cane at the three youngest, who continued to cower.

"What do you want from us?!" Dipper demanded, going on the defensive. Everything was growing black and white around them, spreading towards me and Stanley, covering the whole room. I noticed a faint blue glow surrounding Bills' right hand, hidden from sight to the others behind his back.

"Oh, nothing much, except nearly-destroying the world isn't in my better interests. I mean, I can't carry out my master plans if the worlds gone, am I right?" he laughed a little, then aimed his right hand at them, like a finger gun. "Anyway, there's some crazy stuff that's gonna come up, even _with_ my intervention. Don't think I'll always give you all a favor. G'byyyeeeee!?"

He fired, once, twice, thrice, four times, hitting Dipper, Mabel, Soos, and Stanley, and I couldn't stop him! I tried to block, but the energy -magic, spell?- went right through my hands. Then, he aimed at me, and I clung tighter to my brother, despite the unnatural blue glow around him. I was hit! and it . . . wasn't painful?

"Well, look at this! The family reunion not going over so well then, Crescent Spike?" he swirled his other hand, pulling us all in front of him, all covered in a pale blue magic. They didn't look hurt; in fact, their bruises and scrapes were rapidly healing. I could feel it happening on myself, too, my busted lip healing in moments, besides the bruises I'd gained when the gravity went out of whack.

"I'll be fixin' up the rest of the town and getting rid of those pesky agents. I mean, seriously, if they got the three journals, we'd all be toast; you guys, me, and the paranormal and magical creatures in the forest. So, for now, I'm letting you guys off the hook. Enjoy the break while it lasts." he finished, snapping his fingers. We were all teleported above the town, watching as, in an instant and snap of the demons' fingers, the town began to rewind it's destruction.

The townsfolk were encased in the same blue magic as me, Stanley, the kids, and Soos, out of harms way, but asleep. Bill turned to us, a calculating gaze on his "face". He glanced at Stanley, a look passing over him, his body sagging a bit, almost as if he were sorry for what had happened to the man. I knew better than to trust that devil. Snapping his fingers again, the bleeding cut on Stanley's right cheek was covered in a real bandage.

"There, that should do it. Oh, and I also made him less smelly. He hasn't bathed since entering the portal, hahaha!" he laughed, mocking him.

"What do you want, Bill?!" I demand, waving my fist angrily at him. _'No one insults my family but me!'_ I think angrily.

Bill shrugged. "I dunno, world domination, enslavement of the human race, a family . . ." he trailed off, the last part quieter, then he seemed to shake it off. He either read my mind or was trying to make us feel sorry for him. I'm not sure which would be worse.

"Anyway, this'll be fixed in like," he pulled out a large pocket watch, watching as it ticked for a moment before putting it away. "Thirty seconds, so I'll make this snappy." An image of a large, six-fingered hand appeared above his head, like the ones on the journals. But this one was. . . different.

It was silver, had a series of small little gold four-point stars, and bronze connecting the dots of the stars, like a constellation. That and the whole thing was much smaller than that of the original journals, more like a childs. I didn't quite get this, as Stanley had made the journals when we were around twenty, as adults. The others didn't seem to get it either, it seemed.

"Something big is still coming, and everything you know will change. More family members found, but more cut off forever. A Darkness approaches that will try and block out the last of the Light any of you knew."

He stopped, gauging our reactions. This was new to me, and I didn't like the sound of it one bit. The other three seemed to have heard this before, which lead me to wonder where. And Stanley was, well . . . still asleep, or worse. I shook that thought away. My brother was made of tougher stuff than that. He'd be okay. I hope.

"In the meantime, I'll be watching you . . . I'll be watching yoooouuuuu . . . ." Bills' "Circle of Symbols" appeared, the light going round and round, "Remember, RealiyIsAnIllusion, TheUniverseIsAHologram, FindMarci, BYYYYEEE!?" he shouted, the light settling on the one of the hand(it had six fingers) before he disappeared.

Me, the kids, Soos, and Stanley reappeared inside the gift shop of the shack. I stood slowly, groaning, then spotted Stanley. I raced over, dropping to my knees, tugging away a little of his coat collar, pressing my pointer and middle finger to his neck. His pulse was steady, if a tiny bit too slow. I breathed collective sigh of relief.

Someone coughed behind me, and I turned to see Soos, Dipper, and Mabel. The twins were whispering among themselves, seeming to argue before they made up with one another.

Soos stepped forward. "Uh, Mr. Pines? I'd like to go check up on my Abuelita. I-I'll be back for work tomorrow." he told me, unsure, and a tad freaked out.

I nodded. "Alright Soos, s-sounds good. I'll explain when you get back." Soos tugged his hat brim down a little tighter and nodded before stepping outside. I looked to the Twins. Dipper still had the angry, betrayed look about him. He shot me a single glare, glanced once in confused worry at Lee, then turned and headed up the stairs.

Mabel sent both me and my brother a sympathetic, understanding look before following her brother. I sighed, rubbing at my eyes, then scooped my own brother up, and Holy Mackerel, he was light! What had he been eating? I carried him up the stairs and into Soos's break room, which had been his old room at the Shack. I gently propped him up against the couch.

I pulled off his boots and set them by the door, then removed the gun from the strap on his back and propped them next to the boots. I laid him on the couch, and stepped out to my room to grab some blankets and such. I basically tucked him in, then removed his cracked glasses, setting them on a nearby side table. I hid the gun in a closest, as I didn't want him getting any bad ideas about it, and thus started the waiting game.

I pulled up a chair, seating myself by his head. I didn't really like this. _'What if Bill did something weird to him?'_ I thought. _'The stupid demon was certainly acting funnier than he had before. What if . . .'_ my next thought stopped me cold.

 _'What if Dipper and Mabel don't_ trust _me anymore?'_ I really didn't want that. The look in Dippers eyes, the way he glared at me . . . it hurt inside, more than I would probably ever admit. Not to long ago, we fought _zombies_ and sang that weird karaoke song to stop them. Where had all of that gone? I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

"I really hope this all turns out, Lee. . . I never thought trying to bring you back might tear the rest of the family apart." I feel tears prick my eyes, and rub at them quickly, trying to resist breaking down into sobs.

Many a time, in the first few years after Lee had been . . . lost, I'd occasionally break down and just cry for a good half hour or so before just going down to stare at the portal, the source of the brothers disappearance and yet the only way to bring him back.

(-/-/-/-)

 _We had been ready to go. We had figured out everything to the very last detail. I'd volunteered to go in first, but now, I was regretting it. The portal was spitting out blue lightning, and it caught the rope on fire! The fire was edging towards me, and I silently cursed as I tried to undo the sturdy knot. I really didn't want to get third-degree burns today._

 _The rope was beginning to seer at my middle, burning away my shirt and attacking the skin by the time Lee grabbed my hand. He was clinging to the end of the rope. "Just hang on!" Lee shouted over the noise that was surfacing. "McGucket! Shut it off, now!" he yelled to our friend, who only nodded, crawling on all fours, as fast as he could, for the emergency fail safe. The portal was getting stronger, messing up all the gravity and pulling everything into it._

 _I managed to ignore the pain around my middle and hug my brother around the waist. I didn't care that I was trembling, my stomach was burnt! I frowned a little when Lee paused. Then, he'd taken the rope end and tied it around my middle. What is he doing?! my pain-filled mind demanded. Then, something lurched, hard. Lee lost his grip and went sailing towards the portal._

 _I gripped at the rope, dug my fingers into the floor, twisting my head around to stare at my brother. He was hanging onto the pole that was a part of the emergency fail-safe. He was about to shut it off when something, I think a piece of pipe, rammed into his shoulder. He cried out sharply as he let go, the portal yanking him closer and closer._

 _I stared, mouth agape, at my brother._ No, no . . . no no no **NO**!? _my mind shrieked, but I couldn't make a sound. Lee reached into his coat, pulling something out and flinging it far across the lab. His journal . . . ._

 _"Happy Birthday, Stan!" Lee shouted to me. He was nearly in the portal, what could I do?!_

 _I was shell-shocked, heart broken and desperate when I saw the look in my brothers eyes. He was giving me his apologetic, regretful expression; the same one he pulled when he'd screwed things up big time for all of us and didn't know how to fix it._

 _"LEE?! I-I'll bring you back!? I'll f-find a way to bring you back, I promise!? Don't forget me!?" I shouted to him; but he was already gone. Suddenly, the portal shut off, and I hit the ground. I didn't care about my burns or injuries, I only wanted my brother back. Tears streamed down my face._

I sat bolt upright with a shriek, toppling over to the ground before I knew what was happening. I panted, looking around in a half-panic before realizing where I was. My face was still wet from tears. I slowly sat up, rubbing at the side of my head.

"I'm gonna feel that tomorrow." I mutter quietly, not wanting to wake the twins; if they were asleep, anyhow. I was just starting to sit upright from the ground when the door burst open. Dipper and Mabel were standing there, Mabel rubbing the sleep from her eyes still and Dipper looking wide awake.

 _'Jeez, did he get_ any _sleep?'_ I think absently, hand groping out to grab my fez as I leaned against the couch a little, near my brothers head. The Twins seemed to have made up, shooting eachother and me glances, undecipherable looks. I sighed, lightly stroking my brothers hair.

"Kids, look, I'll understand if you don't trust me," I started, regret, sadness and sincerity in my tone. "I'll understand if you don't want to be around me anymore, heck, I'll understand if you hate me, but you can't hate me for trying to help my-oof!"

I was cut off when Dipper suddenly, unexpectedly, ran up and and barreled into my gut, hugging me. "I-I think I understand, Grunkle Stan . . .you did it for your sibling, and I get that . . ." he trailed off, looking up at me with forgiving eyes and a little, understanding smile on his face.

Mabel joined him, and I hugged back as she started to speak. "Yeah! I basically told him to think of it differently; what if it had been me on the other side?" she lightly jabbed her thumb into her chest. I felt my stomach drop at the possibility, and Dipper looked down. "I asked him if he would try to convince someone not to hit the button."

". . .and I told her that I would try to stop them. . ." Dipper finished for her quietly. I grinned a little, grabbing them up in a big bear hug.

"Thanks, kids. . .I'm sorry for lying this whole time. Lets get you back in bed and I'll, I'll explain all I can. And I swear, I'll only withhold information that requires his help on it. Let's go." we let go of eachother, and I gently scooped them up in my arms, setting them on my shoulders and carrying them to their room. We all laughed, if quietly so not to disturb Lee, and I tossed them onto their beds.

I explained to the kids, in the meantime, how me, Stanley, and Fiddleford McGucket were basically like the Mystery Trio, searching the town for it's secrets, it's magic and creatures. And thus came up a few of their own stories from encounters with various monsters and the like. I was a bit stunned to hear about the gnomes, and McGucket's crazy "Gobblewonker" machine that had been chasing the kids in the lake.

* * *

Everything washed away, and Stanley fell into a deep sleep, the kind of deep sleep he hadn't had the privilege of having for three years. In the other dimension, he slept lightly, between the monsters constantly trying to make a meal out of him and the strange thunder(best comparison he had) he rarely slept more than a few minutes to an hour at a time.

Before long, he thought he heard voices, and sat up with a low groan, rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay, ow," he coughed a little, throat dry, voice rusty from lack of use. He looked around; then froze. Everything was black and white but him; and the floating triangle guy, complete with bow tie and top hat, was in front of him.

"Well well well, if it isn't the Author of the journals. How was that other dimension Round-Glasses?" Bill asked, less condescending and more curious than usual. His voice also seemed to lack some of it's natural echo, too. Strange. Stanley's experience in the dimension taught him that if something didn't seem quite right with something he was familiar with, be aggressive.

Stanley felt a white-hot fury rise within him as he remembered what the demon once did to his family. He stood, marching up and jabbing a finger right into Bill's bow tie. "Listen here, Cipher, I remember what you did to my brother; I don't care if you're a demon, I'll kill you, right here, right now!?" he shouted, voice still a bit rough, an absolutely furious look on his face.

Bill only froze, but waved a hand in the air, trying to get Stanley to look around. "Woah, woah, slow down! Right when I'm patching up the town and getting those government agents off your brothers back?"

Stanley paused, a little shocked by these words. He took a deep breath, stepping back a pace to look around. He was standing on top of the museum, the town frozen in place and in shambles around him. However, all the damage was slowly reversing itself, the people protected by a blue magic, set on the ground, asleep but unharmed once a section of the town was healed.

He turned sharp eyes on Bill. "I know what you did to Stancio, Bill Cipher! I don't know what you're playing at, but you can never fix what you took away. I want my triplet brother back." tears pricked his eyes. Suddenly, he realized what he had wanted to tell Stanford, but never got the chance to.

Bill raised his hands in a childish, pleading gesture. "But, Lee . . . It's me, Cio . . ." he said quietly, voice changing to match the young, childish voice he remembered all to well. "Bill" flashed brightly once, the form of a young, seven-eight year old boy in his wake. His hair, his eyes, were the exact same shades as Lee and Ford when they were his age.

He looked up pleadingly. Lee was suspicious, and a little shocked. "It really is me. . . every couple of hundred years, Bill Cipher takes away the soul of a human, to use it for fuel . . . since twins and especially triplets are always connected, he couldn't just steal mine . . . he possessed me." he waited a moment to see if Stanley would say anything.

"We . . we influence eachother. . . me and Bill, I mean. Sometimes, like right now, I'm in control, and he can only yell at me. At others. . .he makes me do bad things." the young boy shuddered, and Stanley got the strangest (or not so strange) instinct to kneel down and hug the boy.

" . . .is there any way to bring you back?" Stanley asked.

Stancio looked up in shock. "Wh-what?"

"Is there any way to bring you back?" Lee repeated slowly, kneeling down to the boy(his brothers) level.

After a moment, Cio nodded. "Yes, there is. If you can convince Ford I'm still here, that I _exist_ ," he emphasized the word. "you only need to say a special incantation with him, I'll be brought back, and Bill will be forever banished from this world. I . . ." he glanced ruefully down at his seven year old form. "Not sure how old I'll be, though."

"Old enough." Lee smirked, putting the boy in a headlock and lightly noogieing him.

Cio yelped and squirmed, but laughed happily. He wriggled loose, then quietly whispered into his triplet brothers ear, telling him the incantation and other things that would be necessary. Lee nodded, affectionately ruffling his brothers hair. The little guy giggled a little and snapped his fingers. Lee felt himself fall into darkness, and he shouted all the way.

* * *

 **In short, I lost a bet. I kinda wanted to throw in some characters, other relatives of the Pines, but ones that were unknown. To add to the turmoil; I mean, Stanley is back, and he has to re-adjust to his home again and the Twins have to get used to the fact that their grandpa is back.**

 **So, how do I add to the chaos? By throwing in a triplet sibling for each set of Pines "Twin". Please don't kill me for this. Please review and requests are still welcome.**


	6. Harder Than Anticipated , , ,

**I am on a roll recently. I'm gonna give you guys an ultimatum here. I want _at least_ five more reviews. I need **_**at least**_ **that many before I post another chapter after this.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Chapter 6:** Harder Than Anticipated . . .

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He awoke to the sound of voices. He was on something inexplicably soft and comfy, nothing like the harsh stone he usually slept on. And, _voices_. . ? Stanley's thoughts were muddled, and he felt hungry. Well, more than usual, and his throat was parched, mouth dry, and his head throbbed and body ached and _what the heck was going on?!_

Slowly, he opened his eyes, finding himself in a vaguely familiar room. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but everything remained blurry. He slowly started to push himself upright with a low groan, rubbing his right cheek. _Okay, that hurts, ow . . ._ he thought, rubbing the . . bandage? Did he get cut or something? _What the heck happened?_ he asked himself, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Suddenly, the voices grew louder, and a door swung open on the other side of the room. Stanley froze, watching as the girl from before tiptoed into the room. She was wearing a brightly-colored sweater, and froze in place when she saw him. She turned and shouted out the doorway, and Stanley winced. _Too loud, go away!_ he shouted mentally, cowering a little into the. . . whatever the heck he was lying on.

"Grunkle Stan! Dipper! He's finally awake!" she shouted, then turned to the confused man with a relieved smile. "You were asleep for, like, _ever_ grandpa Stanley. Don't tell Grunkle Stan I said this, but he's been really worried for you." she whispered the last line, and Stanley, despite his confusion, felt a bit of warmth in his chest.

Ford, dressed in a black suit and wearing a red hat thing, was soon in the doorway, panting a little. His eyes locked onto Stanley, a smile lighting up his face when he saw his brother awake.

"Lee, you're awake!" he exclaimed loudly, walking over swiftly. "I thought that . . ." he cut himself off, a worried frown making it's way onto his face. Lee had cowered even more into the couch, a low, hissing growl escaping his mouth, glowering at them. It was a defense mechanism he'd developed; when cornered, show you're not afraid and be aggressive.

More slowly, even as the brown-haired boy from before appeared in the doorway, Stanford approached his brother, concern etched on his face. "Lee?" he asked quietly, reaching into his coat pocket, pulling out his brothers glasses, slowly offering them. "A-are you okay, brother?" he asked softly. After a moment, Lee slowly reached out and took the glasses.

His hands were shaking as he put them on. They weren't cracked, and didn't smell like plant-guts; were these his old glasses, his backup pair? Looking around, Stanley took in the room again, and the people in it. The kids from before were there, as well as the man claiming to be his brother. He was lying on. . . something, and covered with a . . . a blanket?

 _Have I really forgotten this much?_ he questioned himself mentally.

He looked back up as the boy slowly approached, curiosity and awe shown across his features. "So, you wrote the journals? Why did you-OW!? _Mabel_?!"

The girl, Mabel, had elbowed him hard in the side, then began to drag him towards the door. "Dipper, you know what Grunkle Stan said! We need to give him time to adjust." she reminded him quietly, but Stanley's sharpened hearing still picked up on it. He looked back up at his brother.

"F-ford?" he got out, then coughed harshly, throat sore, mouth dry.

Stanford immediately turned to the kids. "Dipper, Mabel, go get some water for your grandfather, now!" he commanded, in a sort of caring way despite how blunt it sounded. The two scurried off, Mabel calling out something before they disappeared.

"I'll grab a sandwich, too!" she shouted cheerfully, the two kids thumping footsteps getting farther away.

Ford turned to his brother, pulling up a chair near him. He seemed unsure, anxious, and a bit sad. Lee slowly sat up, as well, prodding lightly at the soft fabric that had been around him. He was, honestly, amazed at this softness; he hadn't felt anything so soft for three years. His thoughts turned to how he got back here, and he frowned a little, looking to Ford, who refused to meet his eyes.

"So, uh, i-it's been a long time. . . you been uh, been doing alright?" Ford suddenly asked, meeting his brothers eyes for a moment before looking down.

Lee caught a hint of guilt in his brothers eyes. He shrugged, not yes, not no. At that moment, the twins reappeared, with a water bottle and a plate with an apple, a sandwich and chips on it. It took Stanley a moment to recognize these things, and when he was handed the water bottle, he merely stared at it. He couldn't quite remember how to open this, and was secretly afraid that it was actually acid-rain.

After about a minute or so of just staring at the food and water, Mabel made the first move. She took the water bottle, ignoring the quiet, warning hiss her grandfather made, and opened the top, holding it out to him.

"It's just water, it's not going to hurt you." to prove her point, she took a quick sip of it, then gently stuck it back in his hand. Stanley blinked down at her, then slowly followed her example, taking a hesitant sip of the liquid. He grinned a little. _It's just plain old water! Yes!?_ he celebrated mentally, not showing how much shock and jubilation he felt, other than a small, grateful grin.

He downed the rest of the bottle in one big go, despite his brothers protests that he'd make himself sick. "I'm _fine_ , Ford." he informed him, voice still a little rusty. Then, a thought occurred to him, and he scowled, starting to stand, ignoring how shaky he was, how weak he felt.

Ford looked up at him, concerned. "Lee, sit back down for Pete's sake, you've been asleep for-" his words were cut off. In one swift motion, Lee had slapped his brother across the face.

"What the bloody he-" he glanced at the twins, who were backing up, scared, confused, and hurt expressions on their faces. "Bloody heck, Ford?!" he finished, refraining from cussing outright. "You knew it was dangerous!? You knew that reopening the portal could destroy the universe!? What the bleeding heck were you thinking?!" he demanded, anger coiling within him.

Stanford met his eyes, a hand rubbing his red cheek. There was hurt and anguish in his brothers eyes. ". . . I didn't want to break my promise." he said quietly, looking down.

Stanley was ataken back. "Wh-what?" he asked, confused, anger slowly dissipating.

Ford sighed, looking up again. "When you first went into the portal, I promised I'd find a way to bring you back. I. . . I couldn't imagine life without you . . ." he replied sadly.

All of Lee's anger disappeared, and he sighed, dragging a hand done his face. _Of course, I see my brother for the first time in three years and I slap him, what else could go wrong?_ he asked himself, sitting back down on the couch. Putting an arm around his brothers shoulders, he pulled him into a half-hug.

"The slap was for almost destroying the universe. This is for upholding your end of the promise, Ford." he smiled a little, and Ford smiled back, wrapping his arm around his brothers shoulders.

"It's good to have you back, Lee." he told him, and both laughed a little before pulling back. Both of the twins grinned at them, Mabel bouncing up and down while Dipper hung back a little, a bit impatient about his face.

Stanley had so many questions swirling around in his head, but before he could voice them, the plate of food was shoved into his lap. He blinked down at the sandwich, chips, and apple on the white, smooth disk. Plate, his mind pulled up.

"I know you probably have questions, but they can wait; you've been asleep for about a week, so eat up." Stanford told him sternly, but with a hint of playfulness.

 _Just like old times, down in the lab._ Stanley thought ruefully to himself, beginning to eat. As he did, he was introduced to the youngsters before him.

"This would be Dipper and Mabel, your grandchildren." Ford explained. Lee nearly spat out his food when he heard this. _How old are they, twelve? I was only gone for three years, what the bloody heck is going on here?!_ he thought once more, then sighed and kept eating, avoiding the apple.

"Also, you pretty much punched me in the face after you came through the portal; I did, admittedly, deserve that." Ford owned up, raising a hand next to his head and his other over his heart for a moment.

Lee blinked a little in surprise. "What? I don't remember that. . ." he mumbled around a mouthful of food. He never thought he'd eat regular food again; at any rate, it tasted much better than any of the fruit he'd had to eat the last three years. When he was finished, he pushed the plate aside, then asked the first thing that came to mind. "How come I have grandchildren? It's only been three years."

The others froze. Ford rubbed the back of his neck Mabel was looking down at her sweater (a blue one with a grey wolf howling at a white moon) and Dipper looked at his shoes.

"I guess time works differently in the dimension you ended up in . . ." Dipper was, surprisingly, the first to speak.

Ford held up his hand to stop him from saying anything else. "He should here this from me, kids. . . Lee, I'm guessing that you experienced three years worth of time, where ever you ended up at, but here, it's been thirty years. . . a lot. . . a lot has changed." he finished, not quite sure how his brother would react.

Stanley blinked. In his mind, calculations in relation to space-time and how different dimensions move at different rates and speeds popped up. He was doing what he had always done back home; calculated to make sense of the world, using numbers where ever he could (you can't exactly use a math problem to get rid of angry gnomes) to help figure out a problem.

The more emotional part of his mind then kicked in, the more rational. He breathed in sharply, smacking his forehead with his palm. "Bleeding heck, it's been a long time, woo. . .it's just, just. . . woah." he finished, looking down at the floor.

Grunkle Stan grinned a bit, putting his brother in a headlock, beginning to fondly noogie him. "Heh heh heh! We are back, baby! Mystery Twins, here we go!" he continued to laugh, releasing his half-frozen brother.

Stanley blinked, then forced a smile. "Yeah, about that. . ." he paused, glancing at the twins. _Should I tell them about Stancio being possessed by Bill? Will they all laugh at me? What if they don't believe me? It's too risky, I just have to wait it out a little, let things cool off first . . ._ Lee thought to himself, then sighed.

" . . .since when were we the Mystery Twins? I mean, come on! It's so dumb!" he weakly shoved his brother, from lack of strength if nothing else, chuckling a little.

Stanford laughed with him, and shoved him back, but harder. Unfortunately, it was on a recently injured spot.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Lee hissed, holding his right side. While his shoes were off and gun gone(he'd taken it from the skeleton of a man with the remains of what looked to be a tape measure and future-istic body armor; also where he got the goggles), he was still wearing the same clothes as before.

The Twins smiles dropped. Stanford frowned in concern. "What happened to you, Lee?" he muttered to himself. He moved as if to take off his brothers' coat, which the man immediately responded by shrinking back with a cat-like hiss of warning. Ford stopped, frowning. This was definitely _not_ normal behavior for his brother, at all.

* * *

 **So, yeah, I might over-enjoy torturing my favorite characters. This is some new thing for me. Not. Requests, as always, are open, people, so please review them over. No more pming requests. I like doing them in order, and when its on a pm, I feel like I'm choosing favorites.**

 **Also, my computer is half-busted, and I'm borrowing my cousins. I'll be off my short and unexpected hiatus by the time summer rolls around, at earliest. I know this chapter probably has some spelling/grammer issues, but I needed to tell you guys this. It's important stuff.**

 **And, as always, please review, happy story hunting, and the like. 'Til next time!**


	7. , , ,But We Will Always Be, , ,

**I'm so sorry that I didn't get back sooner! I got crazy busy with school and my computer only just now got fixed up enough to actually do stuff. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned it.**

 **Now, a big thanks, hugs, and virtual cookies or brownies(whichever you prefer) to all who have reviewed, faved, and followed this story! Thanks so much guys!? :-D**

 **As always, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7:** . . .But We Will Always Be. . .

* * *

He switched to speaking softly, trying to figure out what was wrong as his brother held his side, wincing. "Stanley, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you, we just want to help. I don't know what happened to you to make you act like this, but they can't get you anymore; and even if they could, I'd just give them a taste of the brass, like old times." he reassured, subtly sighing in relief when his brother loosened up and shuffled a little closer to him.

"Shape-shifter almost got me . . . or maybe one of the plants, not sure . . ." Was all Stanley said, still holding his side.

". . .I'm not even gonna ask at this point. Mabel, go get some more water, maybe some towels, and Dipper, the first aid kit . . . please." he added as an afterthought, rolling his eyes as Mabel giggled, both dashing off to do as their Grunkle commanded. Once again, Lee rubbed at his forehead. "You okay?" Ford asked quietly.

Lee shrugged. "Fine as I'll ever be . . . I fought shape-shifters and flesh-devouring plants and had to survive acid rain and stuff . . . then I come back three years later and learn it's been thirty years, here. . . it's a lot to take in . . ." he trailed off. He was getting a tad drowsy and mostly wanted to just curl up and go to sleep right now.

"And they'll be even more craziness. Look, Lee, the technology has advanced a lot since you were last here . . . I don't want the kids to overwhelm you too soon. Also, Dipper found one of your journals." the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Lee blinked at him, face set in an indifferent mask while his mind sorted through feelings of surprise, worry, intrigue, uncertainty and curiosity. He finally let some of the emotions play out on his face, placing a finger on his chin, just below his lips. "He hasn't gotten into too much trouble now, has he?" he asked.

Ford shrugged. "I think you'll be hearing about it soon enough, but only after you've got more of your strength up. I don't know what nightmare you were forced through for the last three years, but you slept for a week and seemed underweight before that; I don't want you sick." Ford finished. Mabel and Dipper reappeared at that moment, Mabel with an arm-full of water bottles and some towels while Dipper lugged in the first-aid kit.

Bringing over the supplies, they handed some stuff to their Grunkle, expectantly watching and waiting for anymore tasks. Ford turned to Lee. "Take off your coat." was all he said, watching as his brother slowly obeyed. He wore a roughened grey long sleeved wool shirt underneath. A white, blood-stained bandage was wrapped around his torso over it, the scent of blood washing over them all.

He began to untie the knot, wincing and breathing sharply. The kids seemed unsure whether they should stay or not, so Ford ordered them out. "Kids, go downstairs and watch tv or something, but send Soos up here; I'm gonna need an extra set of hands. _Adult_ hands." he added when Dipper opened his mouth to protest.

The two nodded, Mabel doing a quick salute as she followed her brother. Turning to his brother, Ford helped undo the knot, unwinding the makeshift bandage. The wound didn't seem especially deep, more like shallow (if huge, what the heck made these?!)claw marks going from below the armpit to the waist. It had taken a little more effort, as the wounds were slowly scabbing over and had caught the cloth, but they slowly eased off the dark grey wool shirt, tossing it aside.

"Yeesh, and I thought I got hurt bad. . ." Ford muttered, taking some of the water and a towel, beginning to wipe the dried blood from his brothers skin. This both revealed the wound and cleaned it of grime at the same time. A few minutes later, Soos came up, appearing in the doorway, huffing and panting.

"You needed me Mr. Pines? And . . . Mr. Pines . . ?" Soos slowly repeated, looking from one to the other. He finally shrugged and walked up. "What do you need help with, sir?" he asked, ready to assist.

"Just hand me stuff as I need it, okay Soos?" Ford replied. Soos nodded. They disinfected the wound first, then had to literally hold Stanley down as he struggled. They had to get the bandages on and he wouldn't stop resisting or trying to do it himself.

"Stanley, god-dangit, hold still!" Ford had finally shouted, at his wits end with this. Stanley's eyes were wide but pupils shrunk, reminding Ford of a startled, injured wolf he'd come across once in his lawn a few years back. While the creature had snapped at him when he approached, being aggressive, it cowered when he got closer, it's display of ferocity trying to hide it's weakness.

Oh, _oh_.

Letting go of his brother, he watched a moment as Lee scrambled to the farther end of the couch. He still held his wound, wincing and hissing. Ford rubbed at his eyes.

"Soos, out." he commanded quietly, waiting until his handyman had closed the door. "Lee, calm down. You're only going to make it worse."

Lee made a quiet sound of protest, a sort of cross between a hum and a whine. He blinked and shook his head, seeming dazed. Ford rolled his eyes. "Lee, please, I just want to help." _'What the heck happened to him in there?'_ Ford couldn't help but think to himself. _'Beginning to think he's a cat instead of a human.'_

Lee made a low rumbling, groaning noise, slowly edging his way back over. The wound had begun to bleed again; luckily it was slow, and it only took a few minutes longer of coaxing and promises of sleep to keep Lee still for long enough to finally fix him up.

He wasn't sure if that would do the trick or if his brother needed a hospital, but was really hoping it wouldn't come to that. How the heck would he explain, anyway? Just waltz in with his injured brother and say, "Yeah, my twin brother who's been gone for thirty years but only aged three in an alternate dimension got injured by a giant man eating plant."

Right, like that would ever work out.

Lee cautiously curled back up on the couch, and Ford carefully pulled the blanket up over him. His thoughts strayed to a little earlier that week. Memory and nightmare had clashed. While his worst fear had been unconfirmed by his brothers waking and interactions, he couldn't help but think back to it all.

* * *

Stanford (POV)

 _We had been ready to go. We had figured out everything to the very last detail. I'd volunteered to go in first, but now, I was regretting it. The portal was spitting out blue lightning, and it caught the rope on fire! The fire was edging towards me, and I silently cursed as I tried to undo the sturdy knot. I really didn't want to get third-degree burns today._

 _The rope was beginning to seer at my middle, burning away my shirt and attacking the skin by the time Lee grabbed my hand. He was clinging to the end of the rope. "Just hang on!" Lee shouted over the noise that was surfacing. "McGucket! Shut it off, now!" he yelled to our friend, who only nodded, crawling on all fours, as fast as he could, for the emergency fail safe. The portal was getting stronger, messing up all the gravity and pulling everything into it._

 _I managed to ignore the pain around my middle and hug my brother around the waist. I didn't care that I was trembling, my stomach was burnt! I frowned a little when Lee paused. Then, he'd taken the rope end and tied it around my middle._ What is he doing?! _my pain-filled mind demanded. Then, something lurched, hard. Lee lost his grip and went sailing towards the portal._

 _I gripped at the rope, dug my fingers into the floor, twisting my head around to stare at my brother. He was hanging onto the pole that was a part of the emergency fail-safe. He was about to shut it off when something, I think a piece of pipe, rammed into his shoulder. He cried out sharply as he let go, the portal yanking him closer and closer._

 _I stared, mouth agape, at my bro_ t _her._ No, no . . . no no no **NO**!? _my mind shrieked, but I couldn't make a sound. Lee reached into his coat, pulling something out and flinging it far across the lab. His journal . . . ._

 _"Happy Birthday, Stan!" Lee shouted to me. He was nearly in the portal, what could I do?!_

 _I was shell-shocked, heart broken and desperate when I saw the look in my brothers eyes. He was giving me his apologetic, regretful expression; the same one he pulled when he'd screwed things up big time for all of us and didn't know how to fix it._

 _"LEE?! I-I'll bring you back!? I'll f-find a way to bring you back, I promise!? Don't forget me!?" I shouted to him; but he was already gone. Suddenly, the portal shut off, and I hit the ground. I didn't care about my burns or injuries, I only wanted my brother back. Tears streamed down my face._

 _"I swear, Stanley, no matter what it takes, or how long . . . I'll bring you back. When you make a Pines-Twin-Promise, you never break it . . ." I whispered to the portal._

 _I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Fiddles shocked, remorseful expression. In his hands were the first journal. He handed it to me, and I stared down at the cover. I laid my five-fingered hand on the gold-bronze six fingered one._

 _"We can't reactivate the portal." Fiddles said._

 _I stared up at him in shock. He was regretful, but resolute. "What do you mean?" I demanded, standing with a wince, but otherwise ignored my injuries._

 _"We can't reactivate the portal." Fiddles repeated, turning to glance at is. "It's not worth the risk. Lee wouldn't want you to reactivate it if there was the risk of destroying the world. It nearly happened now, and it could be worse next time."_

 _I could barely believe this! "He's our friend, my brother! I_ promised _!" I shouted, rising to my feet quickly, too quickly . . . . ugh. I stumbled and nearly fell, pain swirling in my head and around my middle where I had been burned. Fiddles immediately held me up, keeping me from falling over. He was biting his lip, debating whether or not he should speak._

 _" . . . we can take care of that another day. Let's get you to the hospital, those burns look pretty nasty." was all he said, sincere worry and concern in his voice. I allowed myself to be lead out of there, both of us thinking up a quick story as to how I'd gotten these burns. Within the week, I was back down in the lab, moving cautiously so as not to agitate my stomach, sides, and back where the rope had burned me._

 _I heard the elevator ding, but ignored it, pulling out and paging through the journal. "Uh, Ford?" Fiddles called out. I turned sharply to look at him._

 _"Yes?" I replied, already knowing what he was going to say._

 _"You can't reopen the portal, it's too dangerous. Lee wouldn't have wanted the world to be destroyed. Please, Ford-!"_

 _I stood, stomping towards him, and cut him off. "NO!" I shout, ignoring how Fiddles recoiled. "I am NOT leaving my brother behind. What's the Mystery Trio's motto? 'Everyone together, always, never left behind or alone'. I am going to reopen that portal." I told him stubbornly. I turned back, paging through the journal once more._

 _"There has to be some thing in here about where the other two are," I mutter under my breath._

 _"Ford, stop." Fiddles commanded in his most authoritative tone. I turned to look at him in surprise. He seemed absolutely livid, fists clenched and face starting to turn red. "I refuse to let this go on. I may have lightened up in the past, but we've made a terrible mistake." He pointed at the portal, dead and lifeless. I felt a small chill run down my spine, but anger was already building in my gut._

 _"I am not going to allow you to reopen the portal. With out the proper coordinates, the entire planet will be destroyed!? Destroyed, you hear me?!" he was angry, but I was on the verge of pure rage._

 _"Are you saying that Lee going into the portal was a mistake? That this is his fault?!" I demand, walking towards the smaller man, hands clenched at my sides, eyes narrowed dangerously at him._

 _To his credit, this time, he didn't even flinch or look away. "I am in no way trying to imply that, Stanford Pines." he stated, projecting a false appearance of calm. "But I am not going to allow this to continue. You only know a few of the codes, and know nothing of the machinery. I-"_

 _"Don't you dare say it!?" I growled out, taking a stomping step forward, towering over the smaller man._

 _He met my gaze unflinchingly. "I quit the project. The Mystery Trio are no more. Good day, Mr. Pines." he informed me coldly, turning to go back to the elevator. The sharpened pain of betrayal and loneliness was quickly numbed and overridden by my rage. I shouted a battle cry and lunged. Fiddles turned, his brave front gone, confusion and then panic overtaking him._

 _I socked him straight in the cheek, nearly about to pound him into the floor when he somehow found the strength to throw me off and skitter away. My anger slowly subsided as I panted, now on my hands and knees on the ground, the sharp pain from my burns returning._

 _Fiddles was breathing hard, an arm still held up in front of him in self-defense, and I realized how foolish I was. I'd pushed away the last friend I had. "F-fiddles, please I-"_

 _He stood up slowly, a saddened, guilty look in his eyes as he scowled at me. "I may be leaving the Mystery Trio, Ford, but I won't give up it's secrets; you hold the first journal, so I'll leave it up to you to share it's secrets," his eyes flicked from me to the lab, glancing over everything, as if trying to remember every detail, as if he . . . no, he wouldn't . . . would he?_

 _"I swear not tell another soul, of a single thing I have seen; the people who shared these ventures with me shalt stand as my witness; I am no Pines, but I'm a part of the Trio of Mystery." he was reciting our old childhood oath-maker. "What I have seen down here will never reach the ears of others, the only people who can break or undo this oath," he paused, looking straight at me._

 _"Is my fellows, the Mystery Brothers." he finished. Without another word, he turned and walked away. Tears came to my eyes, but I ignored them as they streamed down my cheeks._

 _Before he stepped into the elevator, I called out, "Thanks, Fiddles." he shot me a sad smile, and then he was gone. I knew he wouldn't break that oath . . . right? It could only be undone if me and Stanley gave permission for the secrets to be told. I felt a pang of heartache in my chest. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry._

 _I closed my eyes, wishing for Stanley to be back, to be here, that I hadn't just pushed away my last friend, that this was all a dream._

 _When I next looked up, I was inexplicably near the top of the falls, overlooking the town. I wiped at my tears and stood, looking around. I turned when I heard footsteps. I blinked, then smiled, overjoyed._

 _"Stanley!" I cried, about to run towards him, but stopped. This Stanley looked . . .older, rougher, and very, very angry. It took a lot to make my brother angry. I stepped back a pace. "Lee?"_

 _He glared at me, fury and rage and betrayal coursing through his eyes. He marched up to me. "This is all your fault!?" he shouted in my face, forcibly taking his journal back, poking me hard on the chest._

 _"L-lee, I-I never meant for-"_

 _"For me to die?" my brother cut in. he shoved me, and I windmilled my arms, heels sticking out over the edge of the cliff face. My fear of heights was reviving fast._

 _"St-stanley, pl-please, I never meant for that to happen?!" I cried out, taking a tiny step closer to him and away from the edge. "I've been trying to save you all this time!"_

 _He chuckled, almost brokenly. "I was lost after I entered the portal, old man." he placed his hands on my shoulders. "I fell through the portal . . . now it's time for your Gravity to Fall." he shoved me off the cliff with these words. I was frozen, unable to do anything, his hateful, venomous smirk and satisfied look in his eyes cutting me right to the core._

 _I looked down, then began to panic. The ground was approaching fast! I was about to-_

"Gaahh!?" I shrieked, rising in a panic only to fall on the wooden floor of the Mystery Shack. I panted, feeling my chest and the wooden floor, trying to calm my rapid heartbeat. It was all a dream, I thought, looking over to see Stanley still on the couch. I'd been sitting next to him in the chair for most of the day and into the night. Must've fallen asleep.

I sighed, rubbing at my hair. "Oh, Stanley . . ." I mutter, getting back in the chair. I lightly ran a hand through his hair, to try and comfort both of us. "I'm so sorry for not getting you out sooner . . . I'm sorry. . . ." my eyes droop shut, and I don't fight it as I fall asleep once more.

* * *

Stanford shook off the memory, stood slowly, groaning at the ache in his back. He was getting _old_. He slowly gathered up the things in the room. When he had an armload, he walked over and opened the door. Soos was lingering in the hallway, so he handed off the towels and bloody grey shirt.

"Take these to the laundry room, would ya'?" he grunted.

Soos nodded and left, calling, "Sure thing, Mr. Pines." over his shoulder.

Ford rolled his eyes slightly, walked back inside, and picked up the plate and first aid kit, lightly kicking the water bottles, full and empty, into a corner. He could sort them out later. With one last look at his brother, he closed the door and went into the kitchen. He could just hear the twins laughing with Wendy, soon joined by Soos, over in the giftshop.

It seemed that, like them, she had only been partially affected by that sneaking triangle demon, and so knew of the towns almost-destruction. She had yet to be told of his twin brother, but he hoped she would take it well. Ford was honestly glad that the twins had two older friends like Soos and Wendy.

They were dependable, believed them when no one else would, and could turn a tense or unhappy, family-related glum atmosphere into a light, happier place filled with laughter . . . when he couldn't or didn't know how.

"We're Pines . . . we always will be, always have been. . . " he muttered to himself, beginning to wash the few dishes. "Nothing will ever change that. Nothing will ever tear this family apart . . ." he tilted his head in the direction of the gift shop, where the laughter had become suddenly louder, with pleading, giggling shouts.

'Even those two are part of this family now,' the elderly man thought, drying and putting things away. 'Nothing will tear us apart . . . not as long as I'm here. . . I'll do my best to protect them all . . .'

* * *

 **I will swear to everything; Grandpa Stanley is the super-smart "knowledgy" twin, while Stanford is the arts-and-crafts "sweater-y" twin. Besides Stanley being the twin who everything thinks is an "adorkable kitten" when he was younger . . . scratch that. The way I'm writing it, BOTH twins act like at one point or another. (snickers)**

 **Anyway, I am back! So, I rewarded you all with an extra-big chapter. Someone reviewed requesting I do an explanation on how Fiddles went crazy and started the Society of the Blind Eye . . . yet still helped with the portal, as shown in this chapter. WELL, basically, I have another chapter planned after this, and then I'll probably get some stuff explained.**

 **So, please review, review all requests please, etc. Happy Story Hunting!**


	8. , , ,One Big Inseperable Family

**Hello again! I'm just gonna say right now, yes! I will be getting back to the requests, but this thing sorta became a three-chapter-arc, so after this, requests will be more of what I'm thinking of(in terms of writing), kay?  
** **And besides requests, I also have some smaller arcs that consist of Classic Mystery Trio adventures and the like.**

 **On a sidenote - yay for happy old men who were best buds!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8:** . . .One Big Inseperable Family

* * *

McGucket had watched from afar as a strange glow encompassed the town, as well as much of the surrounding forest. He'd seen the faint black-and-white-and-grey sheen covering everything, only to disappear an hour or so later. It had taken him the better part of three days afterwards to convince himself to go back. And another two days to actually reach his destination.

The Mystery Shack.

During the time that he had been gone, he had been regaining his memories pretty quickly. Small things, little things, but as more time went on and he remembered more and more, those small things fit together like puzzle pieces. Little by little, he was connecting the dots and putting together the memories of his old life. And there were two people whom he knew once and now remembered.

As he approached the cabin in the woods, he was struck by how strange it looked now. Much different than before; then again, he also recalled how he'd come here dozens of time over the last thirty-odd years, and how the man inside would either chase him off and give him some food on winter evenings. He could just recall his name -

\- Stan Pines.

Yet, at the same time, it felt like that was the wrong name. Or, at least, he was close, but not quite close enough. "Ford" and "Lee" were recurring names that popped up in his head, but he could never fully put figure out who was who; who they were, or if the man in the cabin possessed one of these names; and if so, which one was his?

Not surprising, considering that the twins were-

Fiddleford halted in his tracks, not ten feet from the back porch.

It was still hazy, and he couldn't conjure up everything, but one thing was for certain; Stanley was gone. Stanley and Stanford, two twins, _TWO_ "Stan Pines", and his only two friends for years and years, since they were all little kids. And one was gone; gone for such a long, long time; and he hadn't remembered. And, in the same memory -sort of, at least- that Lee disappeared, Ford pushed him away, attacked him, even, with a fierce rage - a rage that came from the grief of losing someone you cared for and loved.

A sob wrenched the old mans chest; he just stood there as tears streamed down his cheeks, hands clenching tightly on the tied-off-top of his bag, barely paying attention to the world around him.

Only five days after the "portal incident", everyone was still rather shaken up; the residents of the Mystery Shack, that is, and its too employees, Soos and Wendy. As Stanley had yet to wake up, Stanford, Soos, and the Twins were often on alert, half-listening for signs of him waking up. Not too surprising, then, when Soos and Mabel opened the back door to see what was going on, having heard the commotion.

They met eachothers eyes worriedly, before Mabel darted out and engulfed the old man in a hug. Fiddleford blinked teary eyes and looked down at the "youngster", arms held out awkwardly to the side, not sure if he should hug back. Looking up slightly, his eyes met Soos's. The baby-man shrugged and nodded, turning to go inside the house.

After another moment of indecision, Fiddleford tentatively hugged Mabel back. After about a minute or so, she drew back, just as Dipper banged the door open and sprinted over. He was panting, hands on his knees.

"Soos sent me . . ." he gasped out, finally standing up straight and readjusting his hat. He took in the sight of the visitor. "Oh! McGucket! Um, you been, doing alright?" he asked. From how the townsfolk acted, they couldn't remember anything of the gravity anomalies. For whatever reason, Wendy was the exception(so far) to that "rule".

McGucket nodded slowly. "I dunno, okay, I-I guess. . ." he glanced at the house. "I was wondering if Stanford was home, though . . ." he finished, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

Dipper and Mabels eyes widened. "Yeah, he's here, but he's . . . kinda busy, at the moment." both youngsters eyes met; a secret conversation, a silent one, meant only for them, speaking of whatever meaning lay behind the girls words, a meaning he wasn't allowed to know.

His chest ached, another memory snapping into focus; a childhood one, with two same-faced, brown haired and eyed boys met eyes and seemed to talk silently to one another before agreeing to let him join them.

"Why do you want to see him? And why were you crying?" Mabel finished.

His hands played with one another. "I-I . . ." he stuttered. "I can remember him . . . and the Author," he continued carefully, even as more of the memory snapped into focus from the haze. From Stanford almost being lost in the portal . . . Lee yelling for him to shut it down . . . a piece of piping ramming into Lee's shoulder . . . Fords' angry face, eyes full of grief . . .

 _A promise . . ._

"W-we were friends . . . something terrible happened and I . . ." he stopped himself, glancing towards the house, then away.

 _. . . so old, yet still . . ._

Dipper seemed oddly not-excited when the Author was mentioned. "Really? Grunkle Stan worked wit the Author?" he seemed to be forcing the enthusiasm. Maybe it was just the situation . . . maybe it was Fiddleford crying for some unspecific reason that was dampening the atmosphere.

 _. . .still so relevant . . ._

"Y-yes . . .he did . . . we were partners. . . " Fiddleford admitted, mind flailing for the right words.

 _. . . will you tell_ **?** _Or . . ._

"Who is it?" Mabel asked, sounding a little more excited than her twin; either because she had the better poker face, or she was actually excited.

 _. . .will you lie_ **?** _So that . . ._

"It's still rather hazy," he winced a little; he could recall perfectly clear.

 _. . . you can uphold . . ._

"So I can't be for sure. It's . . . only an image, really." he paused a moment. "Perhaps we could try and find some pictures? From around thirty years ago?" he finished.

 _. . . your_ **OATH**? **?** _?_

* * *

After a little more talk and hearing about a cat named "Lee" that was ill, McGucket went on his way. Apparently, Stan had found that cat and they were all taking turns looking after it. Inside, Fiddleford knew that ti was too much to hope for.

He still had to wait and see if their old friendship could be reforged, but to hope that Lee was back? That was just a little, no, a _lot_ to ask for. The stakes were to high; the gravity had snapped back on sooner than he had expected it too, the readings on his laptop showing that the power, the ENERGY had dimmed down considerably and condensed into a single area before snuffing itself out.

The portal had messed up the gravity, but obviously it had been shut down before reaching its true strength; though, looking over the findings now, four days after visiting the Mystery Shack, he paled.

All of that energy was still in flux, but the focal point kept changing. It would shift over the Mystery shack, then to the woods nearby, then to a place near a waterfall out on the lake. It was random so far when it would suddenly shift, and which it would switch to, but it was always these three locations; always, without change.

It was hard to tell when it was strongest; at the Mystery Shack or the waterfall, but it was always weaker out in the woods. From the center point, energy would by fluctuating, in and out, like the tide, but nothing seemed to be affected. Not physically, anyway. However, this was still very significant, and he knew that the only other person who might be able to help him would be someone who had experienced similar craziness during the test phases of the portal -

\- Stanford Pines.

So, McGucket wasted no time hurrying back to the Mystery Shack. When he arrived, it was early morning, and as luck would have it, Ford was sitting on the couch on the back porch, sipping on a mug of coffee. He seemed startled at the old man racing around the corner of the house, jumping and having to readjust his rounded glasses before looking quizzically and warily at McGucket.

"Stan!" he shouted, and the confusion on the other mans face deepened. He scrambled up the porch, and Stan winced when he accidentally knocked into his side. "Stan, it's important! The readings are off the charts-!?" he exclaimed, starting to open his bag, but was interrupted when Stan suddenly stood and backed away slowly.

"Er, listen, I think you got the wrong guy." he said slowly, gently rubbing his side with one hand, mug in the other. McGucket looked over him carefully, suddenly realizing that something was . . . off. Stan was wearing a long brown coat that seemed rather tattered along the bottom, his glasses had changed and he looked younger, like, a few decades younger. . .

Fiddleford's jaw dropped, counting the digits on his hands. "Six fingers. . . " he muttered in shock, realization dawning on him as he looked up at him.

Stanley shifted uncomfortably under the mans gaze, looking to the side. "Er, yes, I have six fingered hands. Uh, not to be rude, but . . . why are you here?" he asked awkwardly, shuffling his heavy boots . . . nervously, Fiddleford realized.

He shook himself, clearing his head. "I'm a friend of Stanford; and you." he replied, still shocked, feeling happiness well back up inside him. His friend was BACK.

Stanley frowned, confused. "Um, I don't really . . ." he trailed off.

"It's me, Stanley, Fiddleford." he answered hopefully. He desperately wanted them to be friends again. Even if Stanford still hated him, Stanley surely wanted to be friends. . .right?

Realization dawned on the mans face, half-hidden behind an indifferent mask. Stanley stared at the smaller man. The mug slipped from his grasp and shattered on the ground into several sharp shards.

He made a choked sound. "F-fiddles?" he asked; in disbelief, hope, and happiness.

Fiddleford only nodded, setting his bag aside as he walked up to his old friend. Without much warning, Stanley grabbed Fiddleford and wrapped him into a hug. While surprised, he  
Fiddles returned the hug, mindful of his side, as it seemed to be hurt. They broke out of the hug when the back door banged open and Stanford was there, still in his pajamas.

"Lee? You alright? I heard something . . . breaking. . ." he stared at McGucket, surprised, then scowled. "What are you doing here?" he barked.

Fiddleford flinched at the harsh tone, and Lee half-glared at his brother. "Ford, it's _Fiddles_. You know? Our old friend and partner?" he asked.

Stanford sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Lee, he lost his mind; he doesn't remember me, or you . . . it was a few months after the portal . . . incident." he winced and shot McGucket a bit of a sideways, saddened glance. "I dropped by his house . . . he was collapsed on the floor . . . I woke him up, but he didn't remember me . . . . and he hasn't since." he shook his head. "I don't know _what_ happened . . ."

"The Blind Eye . . . " Fiddleford muttered.

"What?" asked Lee, confused.

"Nothing. Ford, I DO remember now," he continued earnestly. "Dipper, Mabel, that red-header girl, and the man-baby what helped me get my memories back. It's still a little hazy here and there, and I know there's a gap or two, but I can remember!" he insisted.

Ford looked troubled, yet still unconvinced. "Okay . . ." he paused to think. "Well, then you remember when we went to Scuttlebutte island then, I bet?" he grinned. "We had a pretty good time there!"

Lee looked confused as Fiddles felt. "Now hang on a sec-er," he held up his hands. "Now I think YOU'VE lost your memories. We never _intended_ to go there; we found these magic-y crystals and giant owls what carried us off!"

Ford grinned even wider. "That was a test."

"What?" Both Lee and Fiddles asked.

"A test. To see of you really remembered. That was back when we were teens . . ." Ford grinned wide. "Nice to have you back, Doc."

Fiddles shuffled his feet and went to retrieve his laptop from the bag. "I don't come with the best news, fellers." he replied seriously and worriedly. Ford frowned while Lee seemed either bored and freaking out; he was still struggling to show emotions outwardly again.

All three went inside and Fiddles set up the laptop at the table, explaining about the energy, flux, and focal points he's noticed. Just as he started showing them, however, the screen went black.

"What . .?" he questioned, making sure it was plugged in. It suddenly flickered back on; but it wasn't plugged in at all.

The entire Mystery Trio froze, watching as the screen flickered, before a pattern started to show. A pattern of numbers, that Lee did not hesitate to start writing down on a notepad he had on him.

 **8.12.8. 8-26-5-22 14-22 _21-9-12-14 23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8_**

 **19-22-15-11! 8-26-5-22 6-8 _26-15-15_ 21-9-12-14 23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8**

 **8.12.8. _25-22-19-18-13-23_ 7-19-22 9-6-8-19-18-13-20 4-26-7-22-9**

 **19-22-15-11! 20-12 7-12 8-7-12-11 26-13-23 14-26-16-22 _19-18-14_ 21-26-15-7-22-9**

"What do you think it means?" Fiddles asked nervously, playing with his hat in his hands.

"I don't know, but it looks like codes; like the kind poindexter over here would use." he nodded at Lee, who only frowned as he scribbled down the last few. He had barely finished when it went black again.

It came back moments later, but this time, the message flickered on and off and changed sporadically before settling.

 **23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8 9-18-8-22-8 7-12 22-13-20-6-15-21 6-8 26-15-15**

 **8-19-12-9-7 26-13-23 7-19-18-13 26-13-23 9-12-6-13-23 26-13-23 7-26-15-15**

 **21-18-13-23 7-22-13 _16-22-2-8_ 7-12 7-22-13 15-12-24-16-8 26-13-23 12-13-22 _23-12-12-9_**

 **12-13-15-2 _21-12-6-9_ 12-9 _21-18-5-22_ 13-22-22-23-22-23, 7-19-26-7 18'14 8-6-9-22**

Lee quickly wrote this down, too. The message remained when he was finished, flickering in and out like a candle flame before vanishing. Fiddles carefully plugged it back in, and the regular screen asking for the passcode started up.

All three looked at one another. "I-I . . .it's not supposed to do . . . _that_." Fiddleford said at last, nervously glancing all around himself.

Lee looked down at the numbers. "It might be a cipher; like the ones we used to hide important information in the journals. It might take me a little time, but I'll decode this."

Ford shrugged nonchalantly, but it was clear that he, too, was nervous. "I don't like the looks of this." was all he said on the manner.

At that moment, Dipper and Mabel, still in their pajamas, wandered into the kitchen. McGucket closed and shut down his laptop and tucked it away quickly.

"McGucket?" Dipper asked around a yawn. "What are you doing here?"

"He's here to visit old friends, what else?" Ford grunted, as if unconcerned or annoyed, walking over to the stove.

"Remember that Mystery Trio stuff we were telling you two about the other day?" Lee asked, putting the pad of paper into a pocket.

"Yes." Mabel answered, taking a seat next to her grandfather.

"Well, Fiddles here was that third member."

Dipper went quiet. "But, how is that possible?" he looked to Fiddleford, who glanced around nervously. "In the memory clips, it said you'd worked with the Author for only a year!"

Fiddleford squirmed, but Lee and Ford glanced over. "Whaddya mean?" Ford demanded.

Dipper and Mabel met eachothers eyes and sighed, then explained of their tangle with the Society of the Blind Eye. Fiddleford looked down almost the whole time, and couldn't meet anyones eyes afterwards.

"I-I s'pose I should explain what I can recall about all that; just keep in mind, it might be patchy. Some stuff just hasn't come back just yet." he told them quietly, then launched into the tale.

* * *

 **Okay, explanations for Fiddlefords "Descent into Madness" stuff will be next chapter. And depending on how long it is, it might even be divided into two chapters, I don't know yet.**

 **Also, for those of you curious about the ciphers above, just type in** **"** the mystery of gravity falls **" without the spaces. You can toy around with the codes I've placed in this chapter on there.**

 **Requests are still open! Just REVIEW them, please. Till next time!**


	9. Descent into Madness

**I originally wrote this at school in between finals classes out boredom and because it felt interesting. I've since edited it to fit into this fanfiction, so if it's a little patchy . . . well, McGucket's memory is already patchy, so it works out overall. Anyway, this just kinda explains why I think he wen't crazy and what started it, as well as explaining how he helped with the portal in my version of this, yet the journal still had some stuff on the Society of the Blind Eye.**

 **P.S.  
This thing is roughly 5,534 words all on its own, even before I started editing it here; and I never finished it. I'm gonna have to carve it up, but I really hope everyone enjoys my personal brand of insanity. (wink!)**

 **P.P.S.  
I realize that there's no proof of an actual camera in the memory clips, but it seemed like the only rational answer to some of them, because he didn't use the Memory-Eraser in each. And, just to let everyone know now, I'm adding in extra days that weren't part of the original clips. This is Fiddleford telling it, and he's sorta doing it in a patchy, systematical order; meaning there's also more than what the episode itself told/revealed to us. ****Again, Fiddles is telling it from his own perspective.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 9:** Descent into Madness

* * *

 _Fiddleford (POV)_

 **Day 1 -**

I stared down at the device in my hands. I knew the ins and outs of wiring and microchips, data storage devices and soldering together metal and the mechanics of fusing and directing computer boards and data stream directors. My device would work, and it'd be relatively easy to replicate, if you knew how.

I still wish for my computer, but I can't stand to go back to the bunker, especially alone. There were two reasons I'd decided to do this. One, because the memory of Stanford, even if it was a copy of him, a fake, still haunted me.

The feral, venomous anger and hate in his eyes as he charged; with intent to kill. And later, when I'd been fighting a copy of myself . . . . and then been stabbed in the gut. I placed a hand on my scarred stomach with a shudder.

"No. . . this is the right choice. You've left a few reminders here and there, it'll work out fine . . . remember the bigger picture." I mutter, tweaking the camera's position. My "reminders" were a small, unassuming thin notebook that I'd written in, completely in invisible ink and encrypted, besides.

Everything, from my account of what happened in the bunker and little bits and pieces of the Mystery Trio; enough to stimulate memories, but not enough for anyway to trace them back to me or my friends by should it fall into the wrong hands. It was tucked away, hidden, but still.

Precautions are precautions for a reason.

The "bigger picture" was the portal; they still needed my help on it, were waiting for me to heal up before continuing on with it. I'd been fine for weeks; and lied to them about it. Dark, underground spaces made me uneasy, since my experience with the shapeshifter.

I took a breath and cleared my mind of my worries. Soon, I wouldn't even remember any of it. I put my newest device down to the side, then turned on the camera and faced it, my worried seriousness clear. I'd be half-lying, to protect my friends; we had, admittedly, done some illegal things over the years, and I wouldn't allow anyone to trace them because of me.

Besides that, it was part of our childhood oath; we are never to reveal anything to anyone else about our discoveries unless we've all agreed to it, or it remains secret, and unseen to all but us. Until we know more about a certain monster or device, it's better that people turn a blind eye to the dangerous mysteries of Gravity Falls. I turned on the camera.

"My name is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and I wish to unsee what I have seen." I place a hand to my forehead, looking down at the lies I'd written on some scrap paper; so close to the truth, but still so far. "For the past year, I have been working as an assistant for a visiting researcher." I pause, looking to the side, away from the camera.

I dislike lying, nor am I good at it, and these made burning knots in my gut; guilt. "He has been cataloguing his findings about Gravity Falls in a series of journals. I helped him build a machine which he believed had the potential to benefit all mankind; but something went wrong!"

My suppressed memories of the shapeshifter came flooding back to me unbidden. I look to the side again, hands behind my back. "I decided to quit the project. But I lie awake at night, haunted by the thoughts of what I've done."

"I believe I have invented a machine that can permanently erase these memories from my mind." I hold up the memory-eraser, typing in "Shapeshifter Escapade".

"Test subject one, Fiddleford." I blast myself with the ray. I pause, feeling a tad dizzy. I grip the table with one hand, the device in the other. The dizzy spell passes. I can feel that there is . . . something, something I forgot . . . but I don't remember what it is.

"Wait a few days, Fiddleford." I mutter to myself, putting away the Memory-Eraser. "You don't know if it'll work long-term. Give it a few days, then keep going." Going, but to what? What am I going to continue with?

I don't really know.

 **Day 5 -**

I set up the camera, filled with glee, and turn it on. "It works! I can't recall a thing!" I turn it back off, getting some paper out. I write down a list of names, of people who I think would be helpful.

People who have seen things they wish to forget. And why not? It helped me, and Gravity Falls has so many odd and dangerous things, that a group like this would be helpful.

 _What about your friends?_ Asks a quiet voice inside me. "Stanley and Stanford will be fine. Their grown men like I am! They don't need to be babysat." I mutter dismissively.

 _They're waiting. Waiting for_ you _. It's been done and ready, but they're waiting for you. You're important to them, why else would they?_ The voice continues. It sounds like me when I was younger . . . a young boy of ten.

I shake off these thoughts. "It'll turn out fine. I just need to get this set up, and then the Mystery Trio will be back in business." I continue writing, and the voice doesn't make any comment.

 **Day 22 -**

Quickly drawing the symbol on the cover of the notebook, I turn it so the camera can see. "I call it the Society of the Blind Eye." I get closer to the camera, holding the little piece of brilliance just below my face. "We can help those who want to forget by erasing their bad memories!"

I'd already gained a few followers who were willing to keep it secret. We were currently searching for a place to set up a headquarters, but we'd already made up some clothes, to disguise our identities yet help us recognize eachother. It was gonna take a little time, but once I got the ball rolling, it would take care of itself.

And then I'd go back to my friends.

 _Will you really? You're digging too deep to try and cover a few memories. They make us-_

"They make us scared and push us away from our friends." I say harshly, interrupting his, their, _my_ , thought mid sentence. The voice falls silent, and doesn't speak again.

After a few days, we set up a place in the Museum. It doesn't take long to hide the entrance in plain sight, or the Hall of the Forgotten. I set up some sensors around a spot where we were going to place a statue, so if someone tried to take certain memories, alarms would sound.

It's where I planned on having mine placed, to keep them safe. Within a few more weeks, it was all done. We'd already spread our sign –an eye "X"ed out- around town, spray-painting it onto buildings and other objects; noticeable, but still out of the way.

I slipped on the robe, keeping my head ducked as I pull up the hood and set about the town. "One last night, then it's back to business." I whisper to myself.

As I peruse the alleyways and streets, staying in the shadows, I spot a few of my fellows here and there. They only nod to me, and I nod back. The pointed end of my hood stands up, while theirs are floppy; the sign of the leader of the Blind Eye.

As I go, I see the Pines Twins. They're walking about nonchalantly enough, but I can see the paranoid glances Stanley tosses over his shoulder, the way Stanford scans the shadows seriously, even though he's smiling and laughing.

"Hey bro, what do you think that is?" Stanford asked suddenly, pointing to a recently spray-painted mark of the Blind Eye.

Stanley pauses, takes out the third journal, and pages through it. He stops on a page, and I'm surprised to see a pretty accurately drawn image of the blind-eye symbol, as well as a figure dressed in one of our robes.

"They're sharper than I realized . . . either that or we need to work on our stealth skills." I mumble, thinking of the rest of our Society members. I creep closer, but then -

 _CRIN_ K- **CRAC** _ **KLE**_ - _SN_ A _P_!?

I look down, at a soda can I'd crushed beneath my foot. Both brothers looked up, turning towards the sound. I flinch, twist around, stumble into a pile of cardboard boxes, and run.

"Look, there's one of them!" I push myself faster, panting, as they chase after me. Down the alley! Out into the street! Pause and glance left and right before racing straight ahead!

Duck behind a car, wait for them to pass, and run the other way. Race around the corner of a street and slip into the shadows of a store doorway. Still, they catch sight of me as I come out and keep running. They're relentless and I can't run like this forever.

Seeing a hiding place as I turn the next corner, I press myself faster, lunge and dive! I scramble beneath the logging truck, hold my breath, and wait. They come around the corner, looking in all directions but down.

"Where'd he go?" demanded Ford, squinting in the night.

"We lost him." Mumbled Lee. He sighed heavily. "When do you think Fiddleford will be back?" he asks.

Ford turned back, shrugging. "Remember what happened last time we hung out? I can understand why he'd need a little time to rest and recover. I got pretty beat up myself, and he got it worse."

I frown, leaning a little closer. I didn't know what they were talking about. Did I get hurt on one of our adventures? He makes it sound like I got it the worst of them all . . . but I don't really remember anything.

"I know . . . let's hope he gets back soon." Lee replied. He tucks away the journal and they both leave. I crawl out when they're the rest of the way down the street.

A few of my fellows step out of the shadows nearby, and begin to walk down the street towards my friends. A protective anger churns my stomach; I push it back.

"Stop." I say, voice full of authority; an authority I hadn't possessed before. They halt and look back at me. "We have left signs all around town, and people are bound to notice. As long as they know only the symbol, and only glimpse us, but do not figure out its secrets, are they allowed to remember. We help the town; a few deserve to know of our presence, should they spot us."

I explain it calmly, keeping the protective-ness out of my voice. They nod, and I nod back. "Good. Let the others know when you see them. I have some other business to take care of. Dismissed." We nod again, and go our separate ways.

Lee and Ford know more about the mysteries and secrets of the town, more than anybody else; the others would immediately want to erase their memories. In a way, I have protected my friends.

 _Yet you still lie to them._

"No, it's not lying." I mutter to myself, slipping into the house and hiding the robe. "I'm just not telling them. It's for their own good." I tell the voice-myself, I tell myself.

 _There are several different methods of deceivery. Not telling someone is the easiest and the hardest._

I frown. "What do you mean?" I mumble, but get no response. I slip into bed after eating a little food.

I called up the brothers the next morning and let them know I'd be back later today, ready to go with the portal. They were enthusiastic about it, and I couldn't help but grin.

 **Day 58 -**

It turned out disastrously. Stanford nearly got sucked into the portal, Stanley did, and the . . . the heartbroken look on Ford's face when I told him we couldn't open it again . . . I couldn't stand it! Plus, when I dug deeper into the issue; I was scared. Scared he would ask me again, that I would be too weak to say no and give in and help, possibly destroy the world, or worse, accidentally let something slip somewhere that would get us all in trouble. Deep trouble.

Upon getting home from my little shopping trip, I immediately picked up the Memory-Eraser and twisted around the dial. "It's for my own good." I mumble, trying to convince myself.

 _What you're about to do fixes nothing._

I checked the screen to make sure I'd typed it in correctly.

 _You're only making it worse!_

I aim it at my head, closing my eyes.

 _PLEASE, NO!?_

I hesitate.

 _Please don't, please . . .just please . . ._

I lower it, looking again at the screen.

 _. . . please don't . . . don't do it, please. . . ._

The voice, my own childish voice, pleads with me, sounding on the brink of tears. I stare at the device. "MYSTERY TRIO" is typed across the screen. I sigh.  
"It's for my own good." I mutter. The guilt and fear wells up strongly within me. "It's all my fault that Stanley fell though . . . that Stanford got hurt . . . . that he hates me now . . . .this is the right thing to do." I feel on the brink of tears with loss and pain. It was all my fault . . . .and I couldn't do anything to fix it.

I aim again at my head.

 _NO, PLEASE, NO!?_

I pull the trigger.

There is a shrill, childish cry; a scream filled with hurt and confusion and pain; I glance around quickly, but see no one nearby.

 _. . .no, please, it hurts, it hurts. . . I don't want to be locked away . . I don't want to be_ _ **forgotten**_ _. . . . ._ the voice is echoey, and if far away, drops off, and doesn't pick up again, sounding scared and weak and, most of all, in pain.

I blink away the dizziness; but it gets worse. I drop the device and grip the table with both hands. I take a deep breath, then release it, over and over again. In and out. In and out. In and out.

For several minutes, I stand there, eyes closed, hands gripping the table, simply breathing and willing the dizziness away. When it finally passes, I carefully pick up the device.

"I did the right thing . . . right?" I mumble. Lingering feelings of guilt, pain, and loss echo in my mind before disappearing. I set the device aside and turn to one of my side projects, beginning to tinker. As I put together the final components of an alarm system, I try to recall the final assembly plan.

But I can't. I frown, trying to think back to when I first learned this, working on it and ironing out the flaws with . . . someone. I can't recall a name, or an image, of who I last worked with something like this. I shrug my shoulders, going back to work.

After a few minutes of mere fiddling with it, I recall how to put it all together. I finish and set it aside.

 **Day 74 -**

My lab was becoming a huge mess, but I didn't care. My clothes and hair were all disheveled, no doubt, but I didn't care about that, either.

"Today I came across a colony of little men, very disturbing. I would like to forget seeing this." I aimed the memory eraser at my head, getting rid of the memory. The dizziness seems to strike me between the eyes; I stumble, trip over my own feet and hit the ground hard on my side.

I try to get up, reaching for the device that had fallen with a loud clatter underneath the table, but everything turns black. I'm awakened by someone shaking my shoulders roughly. I feel like I only just fell asleep a few seconds ago; I feel like I've been a sleep for years.

It's so hard to open my eyes; I groan quietly, but don't make an effort to move. Distantly, I hear a shout, but I'm already drifting off again . . . suddenly, I'm deluged with water. I bolt upright with a coughing sputter, eyes wide as I try to find the source.

I squint at the man before me. My glasses fell off somewhere, so I can't really tell who he is . . . a quick glance around tells me I'm outside my house, in the backyard. Even with my imperfect sight, I can tell he used the hose to spray me.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I demand, trying to get up.

"Fiddleford, it's me, Stan." He replied, as if it should be obvious. Realization crosses his features "Oh, _duh_! You're glasses. Hang on a sec!" He smacks himself on the forehead, drops the hose and dashed around the corner of the house before I could get another word in. With a frown, I slowly stand and wobble over to the spout, shut the water off, then lean on the wall as a dizzy spell grabs me.

The man reappears, and holds something out in his hand. "Your glasses . . . think they fell off when you collapsed."

Hesitantly, I take them and put them on. Everything comes into focus, and I blink, looking at the man before me. He's wearing a white muscle shirt, slicked-back brown hair, plain jeans, and sneakers. He's at least a foot taller than me, too. He seemed to be waiting with a hopeful expression and worried look in his brown eyes.

I scowl. "Who are you and how did you get into my house?" I demand, narrowing my eyes.

He blinked in surprise, a look of concern on his face. "Fiddles? It's me, Stanford." He replies, confusion and concern flashing across his face.

"I don't know anyone by that name. Now, for the last time, how did you get into my house and why did you do it? Or I'll call the police." I informed him coldly.

He nearly reeled back with surprise and panic. "I-I . . ." he glances at me, then away, then back at me again. "You told me and my brother where the spare key is; it's in the potted plant that has the roses."

I open my mouth to protest that _no_ , I didn't tell _anyone_ that, but he presses on. "And I came over because it's been awhile since I saw you, and when I asked around, no one had seen you leave your house for days. I was worried . . . " he meets my eyes, a sort of pained loss and glimmer of hope in his gaze.

I sigh, closing my eyes before looking down at my soaked clothes. "Thanks for helping me out, but I don't know you; please leave my property now, and I won't call the police."

The man -what was his name, Stan?- opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "I said _now_." I repeat coldly, crossing my arms and half-glaring at him.

He shuts his mouth, seeming to deflate before nodding and despondently walking away. I eye the way he's walking, cautiously, as if in pain, and the way he winces and hesitates to touch his stomach and sides. Still, he walks on, sparing me a glance when he reaches the side gate.

A pleading gaze that I return with a hard, patient look. He shakes his head despondently, and walks away.  
I sigh and wipe at my eyes. "How long was I out. . . ?" I mumble, going inside to change out of my sodden clothes.

 **Day 100 -**

The Society was doing well. A man in need of a fresh new start joined not too long ago. He wished to have his entire past erased, to make the Blind Eye his new future. We accepted him and, while I am the founder, he will be the leader of Society when I leave.

One of our members, a talented tattoo artist, offered an idea that all Blind Eye leaders get special head tattoos. The result shows all the sections of the human brain on the man's head, done in blue. We took a little side room down in the museum Society headquarters and furnished it with a bed and some little things to make it a bedroom for him.

One night, as I went down there, I was shocked to see a knife in his hand and a good deal of blood coming from his right eye. I called for a few of our other members while I snatched and wadded up one of the bed sheets, pressing it to his face.

I made him drop the knife and got him to explain what the heck he was thinking. "I have a blind eye and bear the mark of the Society . . . I decided to do it now, before my memory is erased." He told me. I scowled, but said nothing.

We patched him up, and his eye healed eventually. He did, indeed, bear the mark of the Blind Eye, even if the method of getting it was less than satisfactory. It was, in no way, going to be a requirement for any future leaders of the Blind Eye.

 **Day - 189**

The lab was a huge mess, everything was falling apart . . . I almost missed the little voice that had talked to me long ago. I broke my arm and got pretty cut up today. I hit, not one, but two cars. My own is busted, and I had to go to the hospital.

"I accidentally hit another car in town today. I feel terri-bibble . . . t-terrible." I readjust my cracked glasses real quick. "I've been forgetting words lately. I wonder if there are any negative side effects of-" a wave of dizziness grabs me, my vision blacking out.

I wake up, several hours later, on the ground, my nose bleeding from where I'd smacked against the table. There was already a considerably big puddle of blood. I sat up and pinched my nostrils shut, head tilted back to help stop the flow of blood.

I sigh, looking down at my broken arm forlornly. "I've really tarred it up now. . . ." I mumble. I stand once the bleeding has finally stopped, beginning to walk to my bedroom; but I get light headed, the room spins and tilts alarmingly before my eyes.

I stumble, grasp at the doorway, totter a few steps down the hall; and collapse. I try to move and get up, but can barely manage to tuck my face into the crook of my elbow before falling unconscious again.

 **Day 273 -**

"I saw something in the lake! Something _**BIG**_!?" I exclaim, yanking out huge handfuls of hair by mistake. I've since been kicked out of my house by no-good salt-licking real estate agents, since I hadn't paid pent or rent or some nonsense. So, I've been staying at a motel or whatever it's called.

 **Day 618 -**

"My hairs been a-falling out so I got this hat from a scarecrow!" I tug on the brim a little, grinning wide. I have a sudden thought and look down, frowning. "Hey, are my pants on backwards?" as I look back up, a streak of lightning and thunder illuminate the room, the sound bursting in my ears.

I shriek and tumble away from the window. My hat falls off, and after a few minutes of breathing heavily, I pick up the hat and put it on my head with a sigh of relief. I glance around, but everything is slightly blurred; I crushed my glasses by mistake a while ago.

 **Day 713 -**

I've officially passed on the title of leader to Blind Ivan, as he is now known by. I can tell that I'm slowly losing it, in some part of my mind. I . . . I thought it'd be for the best. I guess I was wrong. I could see it in the way they looked at me.

I was an embarrassment of a founder, but they still respected me for being the founder in general. Several days later, as I was headed down the stairs after opening up the secret passage, I was grabbed. I wasn't wearing my robe; stupid!

All they saw was a crazy-looking old man, not the well-groomed and sensible-looking man that the oldest members remembered, before we all started hiding our identities -mostly- from one another. In a moment of blind panic, I snatched up the gun-thing they had pointed at me and shot them all with it.

However, in the process, I accidentally erased all of their memories of me being the founder. They drag me, thrashing and shouting into the chair, and then . . . then I can't remember anything as they . . . shoot me with some strange device.

I squint, trying to recall, but I can't. They . . . escort me out, and, dazedly, I head home. Half way there, I distantly remember that I don't _have_ a home. So, I turn towards the motel . . . only to get kicked out by the manager.

I curse at them in my own twisted, mixed up words, to little effect.

 **Day 962 -**

Well, I've been living on the streets for months now. People hardly give me a passing glance, or shake their heads at me in pity. I've tried to go to my son, but he won't talk to me, either. Any tourists or vizza-tours shoot me weird looks and keep away.

Every now and then, I wander down the old road to some weirdly familiar house with a high, pointed roof. The man who lives there shakes his head at me, "poor pitiful thing" but his eyes are haunted by memories of the past.

I always feel faintly jealous; most of my memories are just a blur. I come closer, where he's showing something off to some tourists. He sends me a little glare before acting jovial again. When I come closer and people start to stare, he chases me off.

My curiosity draws me back again, however. The place feels so familiar, but I can't recall why. Again and again, the man chases me away. And again and again, I return.

It became like a game. I continued on with it, but started coming at different times of day, rather than constantly. It became . . . almost normal, in a way.

* * *

There's a pause, a lull in conversation as Grunkle Stan brings over the food. Scrambled eggs and bacon and some toast with butter and syrup. Dipper and Mabel had a syrup race before putting it on their food, and Fiddles, Lee, and Ford made "old man jokes" that only their generation could understand; inside jokes from way back in the fifties and sixties, when they were kids younger than Dips and Mabes right now.

After they finished eating, Fiddleford picked up where he had left off.

* * *

 **Here y'all go! It's very long, much longer than I originally thought it'd be; and I cut it in half. I guess I'll make the next few kinda lengthy(shrugs  
**

 **Enjoy, please review, reviewing requests are still open and fair game, and, don't worry, I'm getting to all of the requests. G'bye!**


	10. Wrap-Up and De-CIPHER-ing

**Ta-da! the rest of "Descent into Madness" and some foreshadowing for more . . . sinisterly triangular, warringly white, and devious dirty-blond outcomes. for those of you who tried to decipher the codes that showed up yesterday . . .try again, right now, or do it if you haven't before reading this. It's going to be revealed today, so now's your last chance to figure it out for youselves. The website for the easier way to decode everything is in the last chapter or two.**

 **As always, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10:** Wrap-Up and De-CIPHER-ing

* * *

 **Day 713 -**

I've officially passed on the title of leader to Blind Ivan, as he is now known by. I can tell that I'm slowly losing it, in some part of my mind. I . . . I thought it'd be for the best. I guess I was wrong. I could see it in the way they looked at me.

I was an embarrassment of a founder, but they still respected me for being the founder in general. Several days later, as I was headed down the stairs after opening up the secret passage, I was grabbed. I wasn't wearing my robe; stupid!

All they saw was a crazy-looking old man, not the well-groomed and sensible-looking man that the oldest members remembered, before we all started hiding our identities -mostly- from one another. In a moment of blind panic, I snatched up the gun-thing they had pointed at me and shot them all with it.

However, in the process, I accidentally erased all of their memories of me being the founder. They drag me, thrashing and shouting into the chair, and then . . . then I can't remember anything as they . . . shoot me with some strange device.

I squint, trying to recall, but I can't. They . . . escort me out, and, dazedly, I head home. Half way there, I distantly remember that I don't _have_ a home. So, I turn towards the motel . . . only to get kicked out by the manager.

I curse at them in my own twisted, mixed up words, to little effect.

 **Day 962 -**

Well, I've been living on the streets for months now. People hardly give me a passing glance, or shake their heads at me in pity. I've tried to go to my son, but he won't talk to me, either. Any tourists or vizza-tours shoot me weird looks and keep away.

Every now and then, I wander down the old road to some weirdly familiar house with a high, pointed roof. The man who lives there shakes his head at me, "poor pitiful thing" but his eyes are haunted by memories of the past.

I always feel faintly jealous; most of my memories are just a blur. I come closer, where he's showing something off to some tourists. He sends me a little glare before acting jovial again. When I come closer and people start to stare, he chases me off.

My curiosity draws me back again, however. The place feels so familiar, but I can't recall why. Again and again, the man chases me away. And again and again, I return.

It became like a game. I continued on with it, but started coming at different times of day, rather than constantly. It became . . . almost normal, in a way.

 **Day ? ? ? -**

"Yair-roo! Yerks-ihvee! Gerze-matov!" I shout, celebrating having completed making my new home in the dump, making a triangle with my fingers and placing it over one eye, laughing manically. I continue my hootenanny for a while, then duck back inside as it starts to rain.

 **Later that year;  
about Midwinter -**

The snow is cold on my bare feet as I trudge through the deep drifts. I'm going to the one place where I think I might find a smidge of help. I don't know where my son lived, and could only find him when the boat-fishing place was open, and it'd been closed for months.

The wide brim on my hat kept the snow out of my face, unless the wind blew just wrong. I rubbed my arms repeatedly, trying to get some warmth back in them, wriggling my toes now and then to see if they were still numb or not.

I could just see the house when it started to get dark through the heavy snowfall; and the wind really began to howl aloud. I gripped the brim of my hat and pulled it over my face, pressing onwards. I really hoped I was right about this, or this could be the end of Fiddleford McGucket.

As I got closer and it got darker and colder, I saw lights in the windows. Hopefully, whoever-he-was would be kind enough to help an old-timer. I clambered onto the front porch, hesitated, then gave the door a few good solid raps with my knuckles.

I heard a shouted, "Be right there!" I backed up a pace or two - but stepped backwards onto nothing. I yelped as I fell off the porch and into the freezing snow, but one ankle, I think my left, caught on something, half-twisting it as I fell. My head hit the something hard, and I saw stars.

I look up dazedly as the door opened and the man peered out. Just as he was about to go back inside, I managed a feeble shout. He froze and looked around, frowned, then ducked inside, shutting the door behind him.

I sigh quietly, struggling to sit up or pull my foot free or _something_. A minute or so later, the door opened again, the man walking back out wearing a coat and holding a lantern. He walked to the edge of the porch, peering into the windblown snowy darkness beyond.

I gave my foot another hard yank, yelping when it came free, as it scraped and twisted my heel. The man jumped back in surprise, looking down. His eyes narrowed. I froze, looking up at him. For several long moments, we stared at one another.

I half-flinched when he grabbed a cane, walking over my way with it. I tried to push myself up, but feeling was escaping my hands and feet; I wasn't even sure if they were moving. He held the cane down towards me, not smacking at me with it, just holding it within arm's reach.

After several long moments, he grunted. "Well, are you gonna grab it or what?" he half-demanded.

I nodded numbly, reaching up and grasping it with trembling hands. I couldn't feel the wood beneath my numb fingers. After making sure I was hanging on, he pulled me upright, took my right arm, and hauled me onto the porch.

He breathed in sharply, eyeing my left ankle as I stumbled. I followed his gaze and saw the large scrape simply gushing blood. I hadn't even felt it. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, taking me by the shoulder and leading me inside.

The first thing I noticed was how warm it was inside. He sat me down in a chair at a table and pulled some bandages and other stuff from below the sink. He dabbed on some disinfectant and wrapped a bandage around my ankle and part of my foot.

I was shivering, but I tried to hide it. Not sure how successful I was. The man rolled his eyes and left the room. I peered around the space I was in. It was still too blurry to really make anything out properly, but this place felt oddly . . . familiar.

I flexed my fingers as they became less numb, rubbing my hands together a little. A sharp, burning pain in my ankle made me yelp, and I looked down ruefully at the bandaged scrape . . . that was probably more than just a scrape.

I stretched out my limbs with a yawn and curled them in close, half-tugging my hat brim down over my eyes, feeling drowsy. This was actually quite a bit more than I'd hoped for. At most, I was hoping he might toss me some scraps. I hadn't particularly expected him to take me inside and fix up my ankle.

I blinked my eyes open when I felt something heavy and warm press onto me. I looked down at the blanket hat had probably been tossed onto me. Slowly looking up, I watched the Mystery mans' retreating form go through the door.

I shrugged sleepily and tried to relax, chin hitting my chest as I drifted off. It was the scent of food that woke me up. The other man -Mister E., as I was now calling him in my head- was sitting across from me at the table, shoveling food into his mouth.

There was a plate of food in front of me, too; scrambled eggs and bacon and a few pancakes. With a small grin, I dug in, as well, feeling better and better as I got some real food into my stomach. I caught Mister E. watching me from the corner of my eyes, but whenever I looked up, he looked down at his food or at a newspaper he had spread on the table.

When I'd polished off the last pancake, I leaned back, satisfied. I tried, for a moment, to catch the man's attention, but he seemed dead-set on avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you." I said sincerely. He jerked his head up .

"What?" he demanded.

"Thank you. For helpin' out an old-timer like me." I smile a little, and he grins a little, shaking his head and muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, "No older than me," then lets it drop into a sad frown.

"You're welcome." He replied distantly, abruptly getting up and leaving the room. I ponder a little over his reaction. Then, seeing a small, spare roll of bandages on the edge of the windowsill, I get an idea. I grab it up and wrap it around the bottoms of both feet, as a sort of makeshift shoe. My toes and heels will still be exposed, but it'll definitely help.

* * *

". . .and since then," Ford finished for his friend. "I'd leave a pile of blankets and a little portal heater thing on the back-porch during winter, maybe toss him some scraps." he shrugged. "I was looking out for you, Professor, the only way I really could."

Lee was rubbing at his chin, chewing on the end of his pen in thought. Dipper was a little shell-shocked, trying to process and sort out this information, trying to glean something useful from it. Mabel was more sympathetic than anything else. Seeing the saddened, depressed atmosphere that was the gathering of people at the kitchen table, she formulated a quick plan that she knew couldn't backfire.

She stood, walked around to Fiddleford, and, as he eyed her quizzically, she flung her arms around him in a hug, she cried, "NEW FAMILY MEMBER!? You're Grunkle Fiddles, now!" she exclaimed brightly.

Lee initially flinched and hissed at the unexpected, loud outburst, but afterwards he quickly settled and tapped his chin with his pen. Ford raised an eyebrow, unfolding his newspaper. Dipper eyed her, both surprised and quizzical of her reasoning, but was quick to support her.

"Great uncle Fiddleford, huh? I like it." he grinned at her.

"Whatever floats your boat, kid." he said gruffly, but they could all catch the approval in it as he leaned over to muss up her hair, to which she squirmed and giggled.

Lee, however, made a sound of disgust. Glares sent his way quickly turned to wide eyes and fits of laughter. Lee had bitten his pen hard enough to break it, getting ink in his mouth that he quickly wiped at, trying to resist swallowing.

"Pffft, Dipping-sauce does the same thing with his 'thinking pens', hahahaha!?" Mabel giggled, wiping tears from her eyes. Dipper sent her a half-glare, muttering under his breath, but a smile still graced his lips.

Stanley finally stood, grabbed his empty cup, and went to the sink to rinse and spit. He pulled a pencil from his pocket when he sat back down, half-glared at it, then started scribbling once more on his notepad, muttering to himself. He had a worried frown on his face, and didn't even acknowledge the new "Grunkle Fiddles" declaration that Mabel had made.

She pouted and wandered over to his side of the table, leaning over to see what he was writing with a small frown. "What's wrong, Grandpa Lee?" she asked, worry and concern easily heard in her voice.

He startled a little and glanced at her, a conflicted expression on his face. He looked up and met Ford's eyes; silent, private twin-brother conversation. They made a variety of faces at one another, then finally turned to Fiddleford.

"Should we tell them about the computer, Doc Fidds?" Lee asked at last, compulsively clicking the top of his pen.

Fiddleford shrugged after a long moment. "Keeping secrets can lead to more trouble than they're worth. Tell them." he replied with a shrug, gnawing on a leftover strip of bacon.

Lee quickly explained what happened with the computer, and how it had acted funny and was on without being plugged in. Beckoning Dipper, he showed them the two sets of numbers he'd been working on deciphering. He was mostly out of practice, which was his reason for being slow so far. He actually felt rather disgruntled over it. Three years back, he could've gotten them done in under five minutes, ten minutes tops, depending on how complex it was and how many times he'd have to flip the numbers and letters around.

Dipper glanced over what he'd gotten so far, and looked up excitedly. "I could help!" he burst out, then coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean, I could help, if you want. I've been decoding some stuff in the journal, so . . . yeah." he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but Lee surprised him with a tentative grin; not because he didn't want Dipper to help, but because he was still getting used to showing his emotions outwardly.

While Mabel and Stan cleared the table, Dipper and Lee worked on the ciphers, and Fiddles pulled out his laptop and started to work on it, muttering and fretting as he tried to calculate where, when, and why the the focal points of energy kept shifting, trying to sense a pattern.

He hadn't reached any new conclusions when Dipper and Lee stopped talking. They went completely, utterly silent. They shared nervous, questioning glances, then looked back at the paper.

"You guys," Dippers voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "You guys might want to see this." Lee lightly pushed the paper out, and Ford, Mabel, and Fiddles crowded around.

First, it was just a bunch of numbers;

 **8.12.8. 8-26-5-22 14-22 _21-9-12-14 23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8_**

 **19-22-15-11! 8-26-5-22 6-8 _26-15-15_ 21-9-12-14 23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8**

 **8.12.8. _25-22-19-18-13-23_ 7-19-22 9-6-8-19-18-13-20 4-26-7-22-9**

 **19-22-15-11! 20-12 7-12 8-7-12-11 26-13-23 14-26-16-22 _19-18-14_ 21-26-15-7-22-9**

 **)(()()()(**

 **23-26-9-16-13-22-8-8 9-18-8-22-8 7-12 22-13-20-6-15-21 6-8 26-15-15**

 **8-19-12-9-7 26-13-23 7-19-18-13 26-13-23 9-12-6-13-23 26-13-23 7-26-15-15**

 **21-18-13-23 7-22-13 _16-22-2-8_ 7-12 7-22-13 15-12-24-16-8 26-13-23 12-13-22 _23-12-12-9_**

 **12-13-15-2 _21-12-6-9_ 12-9 _21-18-5-22_ 13-22-22-23-22-23, 7-19-26-7 18'14 8-6-9-22**

Then into gibberish;

 **H.L.H. HZEV NV UILN WZIPMVHH**

 **SVOK! HZEV FH ZOO UILN WZIPMVHH**

 **H.L.H. YVSRMW GSV IFHSRMT DZGVI**

 **SVOK! TL GL HGLK ZMW NZPV SRN UZOGVI**

 **)(()()()(**

 **WZIPMVHH IRHVH GL VMTFOU FH ZOO**

 **HSLIG ZMW GSRM ZMW ILFMW ZMW GZOO**

 **URMW GVM PVBH GL GVM OLXPH ZMW LMV WLLI**

 **LMOB ULFI LI UREV MVVWVW, GSZG R'N HFIV**

But when next decoded. . . .

 **S.O.S. SAVE ME FROM DARKNESS**

 **HELP! SAVE US ALL FROM DARKNESS**

 **S.O.S. BEHIND THE RUSHING WATER**

 **HELP! GO TO STOP AND MAKE HIM FALTER**

 **)(()()()(**

 **DARKNESS RISES TO ENGULF US ALL**

 **SHORT AND THIN AND ROUND AND TALL**

 **FIND TEN KEYS TO TEN LOCKS AND ONE DOOR**

 **ONLY FOUR OR FIVE NEEDED, THAT I'M SURE**

All three looked up at Dipper and Lee in shock. Lee only shook his head, but Dipper was tapping his chin with his finger. "Remember when Bill appeared? After the portal stuff and Grandpa Lee collapsed? Remember what he said? I wrote it down somewhere. . . " he muttered out the last part, patting at his vest, reaching inside to pull out a small, white notebook that had a roughly-sketched pine tree on it, reminisce of the one on his hat.

He paged through, cleared his throat and read aloud, "'Something big is still coming, and everything you know will change. More family members found and more cut off forever. A Darkness approaches that will try to block out the last of the Light any of you knew'." he glanced at the others and flipped to a different page. "Mabel, Soos, and I had to go into Grunkle Stans' mind awhile back to stop Bill from stealing the code to the safe,"

Lee's mouth dropped open in shock, and he looked to Ford to say something before Dipper continued. "He wanted it because Gideon summoned him. He wanted to steal the deed to the shack. Anyway, he said something just before he left that time, and it's similar to what he said this time; but different." he looked up, then looked back down at the page, a finger scanning over the text.

Fiddle eyes were closed and he rattled it out, as if he'd memorized it. "'Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, byyee!'" he recited slowly and clearly, eyes opening, swimming with old memories; good and bad, healing and painful, familiar allies and unknown terrors.

Dipper nodded after a moment, pointing out where he'd written two lines of text, one on top of the other, and where he'd circled some in blue ink, an arrow pointing with some question marks.

 _'Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!'_  
 _'Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, **Find Marci** , bye!'_

Dipper placed the notebook on the table and pointed it out. "I talked it over with Soos and Mabel, and they verified what I originally thought; he says 'Find Marci', whoever that is, then leaves."

Fiddles leaned over, looking over the notepad with the decoded ciphers, biting his lip. "The readin's my computer keep showin' display where three points of concentrated energy keep appearin'. It's always changin' at random times, but the three places are always the same. I ain't sensed no pattern in it yet, but . . ." he swiveled his computer around.

The map was a bit rough, but he quickly pointed out where the Mystery Shack was, then the waterfall. His lips were pressed into a thin line, expression grim. Ford seemed to be connecting the dots fast. He glanced from Dippers notes to the ciphers to the computers readings.

"Someone is out there. . . someone needs help . . ." Mabel finally spoke. "And they've been trying their hardest to get through. Whether it's this Marci person, or someone else. . . we gotta help." she didn't explain why. She didn't admit that she wasn't sure what all the information and codes and computations meant.

It was a gut feeling, that was quickly turning into something she knew was dead-right in her heart.

Just like when Grunkle Stan asked her to trust him, just over a week ago.

* * *

 **Ta-da! Please review!**


	11. Search and Research, part 1

**I lost a bit of inspiration, but I'me back now. Thanks so much to everyone who had reviewed, faved, followed, and stuck with this story! A huge hug and several brownies and cookies for you!(they're virtual, so take as many of whichever kind you like!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 11:** Search and Research, part 1

* * *

"Mabel's probably right," Lee finally spoke up. "Someone out there is reaching for help. From what you've told me when Bill showed up recently and acted, well, _unlike_ himself, there could be someone who made a deal with him. Someone who's figured something out, and is trying to either break the deal or at least warn someone who'll know what to do."

". . . and they chose us . . ." Dipper and Mabel realized at the same time. They glanced at eachother from across the table, brown eyes wide with realization and excitement; they nodded to one another.

"I think I might know where this 'Marci' fella is at; or at least, someone who could help us find her." Fiddles spoke up; cautiously, unsure if his guess was accurate. "You twins remember that mystery ghost girl? The Stans." he clarified, glancing at Dipper and Mabel.

Lee hesitated, then nodded, while Ford shrugged. "Little bit. It's been thirty years, I'm _old_." he said gruffly, yet humorously.

Between the two of them, Fiddles and Lee explained about a myrtle tree they had found in the woods, actually not to far from the Shack, where they had discovered an old, cobweb-covered brown journal resting in a cavity in the tree. The pages were yellowed and old, a pot of ink with an old-timey feather-quill resting inside. The pages had little dates written across the top, but were otherwise blank, and the cover had a six-fingered hand emblazoned on.

The hand looked like it'd been burnt into the leather, and a pattern of ink droplets formed a shape; they could never fully figure out what it was, however. When they had tried to take it, it had be yanked from their grasp and flew back to it's original spot of it's own accord. It had flipped open to a page that had nothing on it . . . and words had appeared, in black ink and neat handwriting.

Boldly, Stanley had taken the quill and written a response back after the book seemed to encourage them, directing them to do so. For a long time, they conversed. Through this ghostly source, they learned a lot of things; warnings on going to certain places at certain times, being watchful of certain things and people so as to avoid becoming a meal or dead, the the home of the Hand-Witch, and a three-part-harmony to defeat zombies.

As well as how to summon a ghost. All it really did was make it so they could talk to her directly, instead of having to write everything down, and make her visible, since she was already there. She looked to be from settlers times, in a plain, dark brown cotton dress. When she spoke, her mouth moved and words appeared on the page; they could not hear her voice.

She had long, lightly-colored hair that seemed to reach all the way to her ankles(she sat in midair most times, making it hard to tell), light eyes, and a blue glow around her; her whole ghostly coloration was light blue, in fact, like some of the more powerful ghosts. It was never clear if she wielded such power, as she never displayed anything of the sort.

She filled in the blanks on quite a few things for them, mostly just additional facts to things they had already discovered. All she would ask for in return was information, as well; but about how the world was currently, how the town had changed; sometimes, the price would go up, depending on what sort of information they would ask for.

They visited at least once a week, and when there was an emergency they needed advice for. When this had gone on for months, they finally asked her name. Her price was higher . . . and unusual. She asked for a song. Any song at all, as long as it was one all three honestly enjoyed.

Her name was M. A. Evergreen, she revealed, and seemed pleased enough to be nicknamed Mae. Mae always seemed so happy to see them, or worried when she learned of their troubles. She helped them construct spells and incantations, and the methods on how to summon or follow a certain floating triangle demon into the mind.

"So, wait, the whole 'three-part-harmony' thing. . . was discovered by a _ghost_?" Dipper asked in disbelief.

Lee nodded sheepishly. "Er, yes . . . we were never super-inclined to raise the dead and test it for ourselves."

Dipper smacked his forehead, exasperated. "We had to deal with a zombie uprising not too long ago! We used the three-part harmony thing; it worked, thankfully! You put it in the journal without knowing it worked, though?! Why?!" he exclaimed. He was more scared than angry; why had unconfirmed knowledge been placed in the journal? If it'd been wrong, they could've died!

Lee opened and closed his mouth, unable to find a proper answer. "Leave your grandfather alone," grumped Ford, lightly swatting Dipper over the head with his newspaper. "Mae helped us with a lot of things; they seemed small, they seemed obsolete; heck, they even seemed completely crazy or stupid sometimes, I'll admit. But she was right; she was right every single time. I trust her." he nodded towards Lee and Fiddles.

"We all did." Lee added, glancing up a moment, glad to have the support.

"And I still do." Fiddles continued. "I think we should go to her for help; she might know where or who Marci is, or what these codes mean. She . . ." he met Lee and Fords' eyes for a brief moment. "She what warned us about Bill, and gave us a way to stop him when he got out of control; she might understand him what better than anyone else alive, I'd reckon." he finished.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Mabel half-demanded, dancing away from the table. She held one enclosed fist by her mouth. she grinned excitedly and secretly, though she tried to hide it in the collar of her favorite purple nightgown; with little success. Opening her hand, she blew hard, scattering brightly colored confetti across the room and table.

"Let's get this Mystery-Solving party on the road!" she finished, smiling brightly as she twirled, giggling and scattering several more handfuls of confetti and glitter across the kitchen.

Lee stared before leaning over towards Dipper. "Is your sister magic? How is she summoning the fairy dust and brightly-colored strips of paper from no where?" he whispered.

Dipper gave him a bit of a strange look, but understood where he was coming from. "It's actually glitter and confetti; she hides it in her sweater or pants pockets . . . . .I think." he added, realizing that Mabel didn't have pants or any of her sweaters at the moment.

Lee nodded, but made no further comment. Fiddleford watched the computer screen anxiously; the little dot indicating the presence of concentrated energy had shifted once more. It had gone from the waterfall to the Mystery Shack; but then, it glitched out wildly. Fiddles quick-checked the whole map, and found it at the place in the woods. He wasn't sure what to expect anymore, and that scared him.

* * *

Dipper changed into his usual shorts, shirt, and vest, pine-tree hat on and journal#3 safely tucked away. Lee held onto the first journal, and had some other supplies like a lighter, pack of matches, roll of bandages, small bottle of disinfectant, all in a waterproof tin; as well as a small metal water bottle and some protein bars tucked away in the inner pockets of his long coat.

Stan had on his usual suit, but had managed to dig up a pair of boots and heavy coat, rather than his nice dress coat and shoes, a scarf, and some gloves. Mabel had on a pair of shorts(that looked suspiciously like one of Dippers' few clean pairs), and her pink shooting-star sweater. She even wore shooting-star earrings, which looked hand-crafted.

Fiddles changed little about his attire, accepting a scarf and backpack for his computer and the second journal. It also had a first-aid kit and some water inside, as well. Ford carried a lantern, and had several candles tucked away in his pockets for good measure.

The weather called for it to be wet and cold; and from the clouds outside and chilly winds, it would appear to be true. On the way out the front door, they met Soos and Wendy. They, too, were dressed in pants rather than shorts and warm coats. Soos had on gloves and Wendy had a scarf wound around her neck. Upon hearing the (extremely shortened) story, they immediately volunteered to join.

And so, they were on their way, Lee and Fiddles leading, seeing as they remembered best which direction to go, and the others just behind them. It wasn't even a fifteen minute walk out behind the Shack when they finally stopped by the myrtle tree; that was uprooted partially out of the ground, tilting haphazardly to the side, over the path and threatening to fall at any second.

Dipper stared. "This is the tree? I've walked past it dozens of times on my adventures." he said in disbelief.

Fiddles, Lee, and Ford made no comment. They were all collectively staring at a single spot underneath the tree; but there wasn't anything there. Not that Soos, Wendy, Dipper, or Mabel could see, anyway.

"Oh sweet sarsaparilla . . . Mae? You alright?" Fiddles finally asked, walking over slowly and taking a seat on the ground, offering a hand to . . . someone.

Ford glanced at the four youngsters, nudging his brother. "The spell. Pull out the journal." he muttered to him. Turning to the others, he quickly explained. "We used a spell that Mae gave us years ago that would allow us to see her; you only need to smear a drop of your blood on her tree and recite it, and you'll see what we're-a seein'."

They all nodded. The chant was simple, and only a drop of blood was needed from each of them, smeared onto the tree. At first, the youngest four could see nothing. Then, there was a slight shimmer in the air at the foot of the tree. It became clearer, first the outline, then finer details came in until they could see the ghostly girl as clearly as they could see eachother.

She didn't look in good shape, for a human or a ghost. There were scrapes and bruises on her arms and face and feet, hardly any glow about her form, and she was sitting on the ground instead of floating, and she was very see-through, besides. Lee, ford, Fiddles, and Dipper all knew from experience and research that ghosts lost their glow, became so transparent, and didn't float, they were nearing the end of their spectral existence.

As a ghost, she was basically dying; or, in better terms, fading away from the Spectral Plane.

She looked no older then Dipper and Mabel, if only slender and willowy. Her blond hair was messy, tangled and unkempt, a curtain hiding her hunched body. Her dress was torn and fraying at the bottom-most hem. Her eyes were sad and she looked on the brink of tears, though it was doubtful that she could actually shed tears at all. She leaned against the tree, knees pulled up to her chest, hands hidden behind her hair.

Fiddleford had a hand placed on her knee. They could not touch, yet the illusion was there, and seemed to bring a small comfort to the obviously distraught girl. Surprised at the sight of Wendy, Soos, Dipper, and Mabel, she opened her mouth and spoke; her mouth moved, but no sound was apparent. Seeming to realize this, she shifted to the side, revealing the inkpot, feather, and journal.

The inkpot had a crack at the top, the feather was unaligned and frazzled, but the journal, fortunately, seemed okay. It flipped open of it's own accord and Mae started "speaking"; she talked silently, and her words appeared, as if written by an invisible pen, in neat cursive on the page.

 **.:'Lee, Ford, hello. Who have you brought with you?':.** she asked. She looked up and did a double take. **.:'Lee, your so . . .young. What happened? And . . .did you figure out time travel?':.** she looked pointedly at Dipper, glancing between him and Lee questioningly.

"Er, no, not time travel." Lee quickly explained what happened with the portal thirty years ago, and how he had only experienced three on the other side before Ford got him out last week, with help from the twins. He didn't elaborate on what the Crayon dimension looked like, what he went through there, or how the twins or anyone else had been involved when the portal finally opened again.

She nodded, clearly troubled. **.:'Such powerful magic . . . it nearly uprooted my tree.':.** Mae cast it a saddened,pained glance. **.:'Something I never wished to see.':.** she shook herself, turning her attention back to them.  
 **.:'If you haven't figured out time travel, then how is a younger of you Mystery Trio here . . ?':.** she asked.

"Dipper here is his own little man, milady," Fiddles said, causing the ghostly girl to giggle silently before she cut off, a stunned expression of recognition on her face.

 **.:'You . . .what . . . how . . . Fidds?':.** she asked finally, after several moments silence.

He nodded. "Yes, it's me, and yes, I've . . . had a bit of a appearance change. Listen, I know we haven't visited for good long awhile, but we need your help."

 **.:'Names?':.** Mae asked, glancing at the others. **.:'First and last, please.':.** she added, with an a curious and polite air.

"Dipper Pines." he replied, putting on a serious face.

"I'm Mabel, twin of this dorky dope, Dipper!" she shoved him, laughing as he fumed silently at her, an agitated expression on his face.

"I'm Wendy Corduroy, and this is Soos." Wendy introduced, trying to get back on track.

"Soos Ramirez." he added, tugging on his hat brim.

Mae nodded, thinking. **.:'Another set of twins . . . and two friends . . . of course.':.** the text was smaller, and didn't quite contain the overall neat and clean appearance of her previous words. More like a mutter, when you thought about it. **.:'What brings you here?':.** she asked,, the neater cursive returning.

She listened without comment as they all pitched in and explained how strangely Bill Cipher had been acting, the messages they had gotten on Fidds computer, besides the peculiar readings, how the town had been torn apart and patched back up, and that so far only they were aware that ever happened; everyone else had no memory of the gravity anomalies.

" . . .in short, we were wondering if you knew-" Dipper was finishing, but Mabel interjected.

"-what was up with Bill, or who this 'Marci' person he mentioned is?" She finished.

Mae didn't move or respond. She remained motionless for a few long minutes. When Dipper, Mabel, Soos, or Wendy opened their mouths to speak, Ford, Lee, or Fidds would quickly shoot them a look that said, "Not a _word_."

She finally opened her eyes. **.:' . . . .Me. I'm Marci. And . . .':.**

* * *

 **Boosh! Bet you weren't expecting that, heh-heh! Please R &R, requests via review are still open, and have fun!**


	12. Search and Research, part 2

**I'm gonna say this right up front; this chapter is gonna be pretty wild. It'll take a keen eye and quick thinking to notice all the codes I've put in this thing. Pay attention to the gibberish; sometimes, it only needs to be flipped around, A-thru-Z and Y-thru-B to figure them out. I think you'll find it most intriguing; most intriguing, indeed!  
**

 **Requests via reviews are still fair game, gonna say that now. A lot is gonna be revealed, but it's like being given a puzzle with only half the picture not-blurry; you have to put it together yourself.**

 **And, as always-**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 12:** Search and Research, part 2

* * *

She was clearly hesitant to continue. **.:'. . .and I think I know what's going on. It has to do with Bill Cipher's Symbol Wheel,':.**

An image of said wheel slowly emerged on the open page to the right; some parts were faintly blurry and rather smudged up, but overall it was intact.

 **.:'You need to go to the waterfall. Something big is rising up, and He can only hold it back so long. If you go there now and disrupt whatever is happening there prematurely, then you'll stop the Darkness; Light will prevail. Despite his cocky words, nothing is set in stone; you can change the future for everybody. Stanley surviving the trans-dimensional spell and returning has gotten the boulder rolling; if you keep going, then you'll be able to stop Bills' madness.':.**

She looked up at them, waiting. They stared at her, Stanley, Stanford, and Fiddleford gaping. In the past, she had seemed like an excitable, vaguely-naive girl, who, through some sort of ghostly power, knew a lot about the paranormal, supernatural, and anomalous qualities and facts about the town. She knew more than they had ever guessed.

" _Who_ can only hold it back so long?" Soos asked, snapping out of his shock the quickest.

Marci seemed to breath in sharply, closing her eyes. **.:' . . .an old, old friend . . . his will is strong, and he would protect me on our adventures. . . .Bill once tried to take him away when were alive . . . I'm afraid it happened after death, and his spirit struggles to hold back the dark. . .':.** Mae shuddered.

She hesitated, then hurriedly continued. **.:'I once learned of a spell that could turn a ghost or spirit into a human; a full-on, flesh-and-blood, breathing human again. We . . . did it on a friends horse once. It worked. When you stop Bill, you might be able to help my friend. .** .':. some the writing was smudged, legible, but smudged and smeared slightly . . . but why?

Everyone was stunned into silence.. She took their silence as invitation to plead further.

 **.:'It would take a powerful Enchanter or Enchantress to pull off alone; altogether, you might be able to pull it off. But you need to hurry; any delay might be the difference between victory and defeat.':.**

"What about you?" Wendy asked, which seemed to startle her, besides snapping the others out of it.

 **.:'I . . .I don't know what you mean. . .':.** she returned evasively.

Wendy walked forward and crouched before the girl. "I mean, what about you?" Wendy pressed. "Can't we use the spell on you and you can help us stop Bill?"

Mae seemed genuinely touched by this, yet also depressed and sad. **.:'You could, but . . . it would take a lot of magic, even for a group of people, so it would drain you of energy. Plus, I haven't been a human for over a hundred years; I'd have to adjust to breathing, let alone walking. No,':.** she shook her head. **.:'It's better if you can help my friend. You can . . .you can tell him that his friend sends her . . . her regards.':.** Mae seemed about to cry.

Mabel walked over and crouched next to Wendy. "Well, we'll come back for you. After we defeat Bill, we'll come back and bring you back, too." she promised.

Marci nodded, then shooed them lightly away. **.:'Hurry . . . the weather is already beginning to turn bad and if my guesses are accurate, then it'll only get worse as the day progresses. Here's the incantation; copy it down and go!':.** she urged.

 **.:'Facere Spiritum in creatura**  
 **Carnis, sanguinis, corde, pluma.**  
 **Pone industria et anima,**  
 **In consummatione hanc ultimam metam.':.**

Lee took out his notepad and hurriedly wrote it all down, showing it to her to double check that he had gotten it accurately. Some quiet farewells and a car ride later, they were at the docks. Soos's boat, the S.S. Cool Dudes, was still out of commission. So, Wendy offered up her family's boat. It was plenty bog and strong enough to hold all seven of them; it had to carry her tall, muscled dad and three brothers, after all.

As they sped out towards the waterfall, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos relayed their adventure with the "Gobblewonker", and how they, too, discovered the place behind the falls, thanks to McGucket when he was still crazy. Fidds looked down in shame during the tale, not wanting to see the looks he was sent. The main reaction to hearing his part in the tale was between Ford and Lee, who shared a surprised glance.

After an incident on the lake when they were teens, Fidds had never been to wild about water, and it took a lot of urging and encouragement to _drag_ him anywhere near water on future adventures. Actually, it was the same incident that instilled Stanford's long-held fear of heights . . . but that's a tale for another day.

"How are we going to get on the other side?" Wendy asked nervously, eyeing the waterfall as they got closer.

"Just go straight through the center! Full speed ahead!" Mabel shouted, pointing a finger towards it.

"WHAT?!" Ford, Wendy, and Fiddles exclaimed.

Lee hissed quietly, trying to hide his fear, but Dipper and Soos nodded.

"Trust me, it works!" Dipper returned, while Soos simultaneously shouted, "Hang on, dudes!?" as he grabbed the steering and throttled the boat up to full speed, pointing them towards the center of the waterfall with a wordless yell that could only be described as coming from a"man-baby"; that Soos certainly was, in a lot of aspects.

They all screamed as the boat swerved wildly for a moment, everyone grabbing onto the sides or one another. They made it through to the other side, jolted and knocked over when the boat hit the bank.

"Everyone all right?" Ford called, slowly sitting up. There were groans and "Yeah"s in answer.

"Come on, let's go solve this." Wendy said seriously, hopping out of the boat. She patted her left hip real quick, pleased that she had remembered her ax. It was still there, wet, but there in it's leather case.

One by one, they all climbed out and spread out, starting to search. Dipper pointed out the high ledge that he, Mabel, and Soos had gone up to take pictures of Fidds machine.

Nearing the back wall of the cave, something caught Mabel's eye. Something was . . . glowing. She walked a little closer, and the glow brightened. "Hey guys, come check this out!" she shouted to the others.

However, as the others approached, it only grew brighter and brighter. Shining the lantern light on it, they could see what it was. A huge stone carving of Bill Cipher's "Circle of Symbols". The bottom-most part of the wheel seemed to rest on the ground. The only difference to the one in the journals was the eye, BILL'S eye, was closed, and the space the triangle was "floating" in was big enough for Mabel or Dipper to stand fully upright, had it been a ledge.

"That's right . . . it was on one of my field searches . . .this is where I copied it into. . . but the eye was _open_ then . . ." Lee muttered, even as Dipper removed the third journal from his vest and flipped to the page.

"Okay, but why is it glowing?" Wendy asked, taking a cautious step closer . . . and when she did, the slot for the Ice Bag glowed brighter. "What-?!" she quickly stepped away, and it dimmed to the previous brightness.

"Wait a minute. . . .Dipper, Grandpa Lee! Isn't there TEN of those picture things?" Mabel asked, creeping closer to towards it, a hand slowly reaching for her own glowing, "Shooting Star" symbol.

Dipper nodded, wondering where she was going with this, while Lee reached out to stop her from approaching further. "There are, but wait! Mabel-WHOA!?" he tripped, a hand darting out to catch himself on the wall; and on the carving, etched so, so deeply into the rock.

He looked up. It was HIS symbol; the six-fingered hand. . . . but nothing happened. It wasn't even glowing. But the glasses were. Oo-yeah, the glasses, a near-match the Stanley's, were glowing brightly now that he was close.

He stood upright and backed away, gently pulling Mabel back with him. "I don't get it; what's going on here?" Ford grumbled.

Fidds was occupied with his computer. "Fellas, it's ON again." _that_ got their attention. They all moved a short distance away from the engraved image to crowd around and see what was worrying him.

The words across the screen flickered heavily, and blurred, a lot of static flitting across the entire screen before finally settling. What appeared was . . . rather chilling.

 _. . . Hello-? A-anyone there?_

 _I can't see . . . all dar-_ hzevnv?! _-rkness_

 _Can anyone hea-_ qfhgproonv. _-ar me?_

 _I'm tra-_ gsvortsg! _-apped, for so long. . ._

 _I can hear hi-_ nfhgszevxlfiztv _-im laughing . . ._

hlwzip _-I want to go home . . . ._

 _Marc-_ Mlvhx _-i, I'm so sorry . . .I can't eve-_ zkv- _. . ._

Gibberish and random nonsense interrupted a lot of the text, but one could still string together what it said.

"Yeesh, looks like the stuff would write on the walls of a prison cell." Ford grumbled, before pausing. A look of realization spread across his face and he inhaled sharply.

The others glanced up at him, curious, but Mabel had already caught on and guessed what was going on. "This must be Marci's friend . . .if he's a spirit, too, then it makes sense that he would be able to do this. He must've found a way to send this to your laptop the first time, Grunkle Fiddles, and now he's trying again."

"But then . . . why is it full of such gibberish if it was clear-and-clean the first time, as you said?" Wendy asked.

"Maybe Bill is messing him up, or he's losing the energy to hold him back and send theses messages clearly." Lee theorized.

"Remember what Marci said? This must be the person that she said was holding back the darkness; and if she back when the town was first founded or something like that, well, then her friend has a bit of a right to sound a little screwy." Fiddles replied.

 _. . .Marci? I know-_ hsv'hwvzw _-that name_

 _. . .is she alrig-_ nfhgszevuzrgs _-ight?_

 _D-_ R zn _-id she send y-_ wvzwglzo _-ou he-_ onbuznr _-ar?_ -ob

The text had even more whacked up gibberish; still readable, but difficult.

"Who are you?" Soos asked immediately. "And what happened to you?"

There was a long pause as the screen suddenly went black, then lit back up again.

 _. . .St-St-St-Sta-_ Rmveviuivzprm _-an-an-an-an-_ tzhpvwuligsrh! _-nc-ci-cio-cio-o-o-o . . ._

 _Sta_ -ovzevnvuivzp- _nc_ -rmtzolmv,zoivzwb!- _io Ev-Ev-Ev-Evergr-gr-gr-green . . ._

 _I'm here be-_ hsfggsvsvxpfk!? _-cause I was looking . . ._

"What were you looking for, Evergreen?" Wendy asked seriously, leaning closer. The static abruptly, violently, even crackled across the screen, the noise coming through loudly, making everyone jump. It almost sounded like a vicious, pained growling, followed by deep, abrasive laughter before cutting off.

Everything, all of it, cut off, and went completely silent and black. It remained that way for a good five minutes, in which everyone watch tensely before it flickered back on and dark-green-on-light-green text appeared once more.

 _. . .my sister . . .but HE . . .HE damaged my. . ._  
 _. . .my memories of her. . .I can barely recall . . ._  
 _. . .anything . . . what she looks like, her voice . . ._  
 _HE is cruel, and I am scared, and I . . .I just want . . ._

 _I-I . . .I shoulda listened to her . . .she warned me . . .  
. . warned me before, but I thought that . . . that HE'd help  
me find her . . .That's why I made that stupid deal . . .but I . .  
I NEVER wanted this . . . I was a fool . . .a naive, grieving fool . . ._

 _. . . I just wanted my twin sister back . . ._

They all glanced at on another again, shocked, intrigued, and worried; the feelings scattered among them. Every single member of the group, however, could feel a certain dread growing in the pit of their stomachs. The message remained for several seconds before the laptop flicked off again. They glanced at one another, but right before anyone could say a word, it flickered back on again.

 **"AGAINST THE DARKNESS YOU MUST FIGHT  
** **USE ALL YOU HAVE, AND ALL YOUR MIGHT  
** **DO ALL YOU CAN TO SAVE THE LIGHT  
** **OR THE WORLD MAY BURN TONIGHT"**

They all gaped, glancing at one another before looking back at the message.

"'Against the darkness we must fight'?" Lee muttered, turning the words over in his head.

"'Use all we have and all our might' . . . what _do_ we have?" Wendy half-demanded.

"'Do all you can to save the light' . . .we brought a lantern." mused Fiddleford, glancing at the flame inside for a moment, considering.

"'Or the world may burn tonight' . . ." Mabel and Dipper murmured together.

"What do you think Bills' gonna do?" Mabel asked.

"I don't know, but he wanted to destroy the journals . . . and he trashed McGuc-er, Fiddlefords laptop, before. Who knows what he wants. . ." he glanced uneasily at the giant, carved, stony image of the stupid floating dorito, surrounded by symbols that didn't make sense. . . or did they? Did they make sense, but only when viewed from another angle? But what angle would that be? What should thay be looking for or trying to solve?

"We know what this, er, 'Evergreen' person wanted. His friend Marci may not have mentioned a sister, but apparently . . .apparently he tried his right-darn hardest to bring her back. . . ." Fiddles said slowly, a certain realization dawning.

"He didn't exactly go about it the right way, though." grumbled Ford.

Wendy was about to snap at him, when Soos glanced at the screen of the laptop and pointed. "Dudes, look!" the message had changed.

 **"HEY, WANNA KNOW WHAT I CAN SEE?**  
 **WAIT'A'MINUTE. . .SEVEN POWERFUL KEYS**  
 **TEN TOUGH LOCKS, ONE SOLID DOOR, ONE**  
 **EXHAUSTED PRISONER, SIX STURDY CHAINS,**  
 **AND ONE MADMAN OF A TRIANGULAR DEMON**

 **IT REALLY MAKES ME WONDER NOW . . .  
WHO'S STRONG ENOUGH TO BEAT'EM?"**

They all glanced at one another as the screen went dark. They waited several long minutes, but it didn't open up again. Fiddles closed it and put it in his pack.

"We should take a closer look at that wall. Maybe there's something we can figure out." Dipper suggested, a certain confidence growing inside him.

"Yeah!" Mabel backed him up.

Lee and Ford glanced at eachother, a silent twin-conversation. Their eyes seemed to sparkle with determination and courage. "Agreed." they said simultaneously. They paused, eyeing one another, then laughed, a free, joyful sound, something they hadn't shared in years.

"Let's figure this carving thing out then, dudes! Yaaah!?" Soos exclaimed, releasing a man-baby yell and charging. Wendy whooped and followed him, with Dipper and Mabel close behind.

* * *

 **Entering the Shadows, they carefully tread**  
 **Quickly acquiring a huge sense of dread**  
 **For in this Dark place, they could be left for dead**  
 **With none to remember, and the story left unsaid.**

 **Fearful, wary, alone, hurt, an imprisoned man doth give**  
 **Hope and courage and secrets, to make sure they grow and live**  
 **To them, he entrusts, what he never told another**  
 **From a friend to a wife, to the sister cherished above all others**

 **Hanging 'pon the wall, from chains of inky black**  
 **A deal he made shalt break, with a mighty crack**  
 **One way or the other, it all goes down tonight**  
 **And through the heavy carnage, they'll end the hardest fight**

 **What happens afterwards; well, I can't be sure**  
 **All I know is that all will forever change for them**  
 **When they unlock the stony, carved-up door**

 **Take a guess, and take a look,**  
 **at supposed gibberish left behind**  
 **Write it down, flip it around**  
 **From a 'B' turned to a 'Y'**  
 **Please don't be shy;**  
 **It will help, not hurt  
And then you can go th Shack and buy a T-shirt!**

 _ **Remember!RealityIsAnIllusion,TheUniverseIsAHologram,PleaseReview,BYYYYEEEE!**_


	13. , , , Man Behind the Demon , , ,

**. . . I just realized that I ended the last chapter similiar to the season finale stuff in season one . . . what with the dramatic realizations and then a weird song-hint-clue thing . . . eh, I dunno. Sometimes, stuff happens, and then realize how neat it is later. (shrug)**

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **I decided I'd do a sort of countdown-esque thing with the chapters; but I'm gonna sorta rando-mize'up the order they go. So, to make sure I'd remember, I put it above this explanation and underlined it. You can basically guess how the rest of this craziness will go . . . have fun!**

 **Both songs belong to me, so no stealing! Please and, a-thank you. You guys got a bigger chapter this time, heh heh.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13:** . . . Man Behind the Demon . . .

* * *

Stancio (POV)

 _Five Days Before . . ._

My head hangs. I make no effort to lift it when He appears. I keep my shallow breathing to a minimum. If I reveal to much, how active I really am, how much I still wish and hope and dream. . . . .all could be lost.

"How ya' doing, Star-Eye?" He asks, calling me a name that is not mine. . . .yet still fits me like a glove.

I don't reply, or acknowledge him in any way. I continue to play dead, even if he knows I'm not. That triangular demon can be tricked if you wait long enough, bait him just right, fight back a little and pretend to be beaten. . . .even if he partially _did_ win.

"No response, huh? Still breathing? Thinking anything in there? Any memories opened up?"

I can sense his gaze on me. Whenever he leaves the cave, I can see through his eyes, sense what he does, his intents and emotions. Occasionally, I can even take subtle control, let a little information slip where it wouldn't have for a good person or two.

The extant of his awareness to me ties mostly to my levels of activeness, if I've struggled in my bonds, and how much energy I have left for him to use. In the cave, I can show -or not show- any emotion I choose to trick him. He can't read my mind directly, just as I can't read his. We're like two regular mortals in this cave.

He can't read my mind, for I am tied to his; a slight advantage in my scenario. this whole cave is basically magic; or, more accurately, it's partially in the Physical Plane of existence and the Mindscape; meaning I am, too. And since the Mindscape is a place where you can imagine anything to be possible, it means anyone who isn't locked up with wretched, enchanted objects are free to imagine anything they want; which would explain how I've maintained my physical age all these years.

He watches me for several more minutes before shrugging and leaving. I wait, until he's far enough from the cave that I can see as clearly if I'd opened my eyes what Bill can see.

I was still limp in my bonds, restrained tightly, but I allow my mind to become a little more active, and carefully observe what Bill is feeling, trying to guess his thoughts.

I guess I should explain my situation.  
My arms have been chained by the wrists above me, so I dangle slightly with only my toes barely touching the ground. My ankles are chained, with only about a foot and a half before they attach into the floor.

A slightly thicker, or perhaps its more than one, chain or chains wrap tightly around my stomach, attached to the wall behind me. A metal collar wraps around my neck, chained to the wall so I cannot strain outward very far.

All the metal is inky black, the chains thick, and are partially in the Mindscape; meaning I'm partially fazed into the Mindscape, too. My body is frozen completely in time, from the moment Bill imprisoned me with his tricks.

The location makes it even more desolate. Its a cave, within a cave, put simply. To describe the cave, well, the outer caves' entrance is hidden by a water fall, and the second cave entrance, the smaller one, can only be penetrated by a certain magic.

Bills' Circle of Symbols, as I call it, is engraved over the solid-stone entrance, and only the person who represents, or in better words, WIELDS, one of the Symbols can help open it. To my knowledge, it requires five, at least, to open it, but I could be wrong.

Anyway, I see what Bill sees; but I can interpret it differently. He watches only to look for openings for a deal, with a sort of sarcastic ruthlessness. I can watch for a reason, info I can grasp as hope in the harder times.

I've dropped hints, at times and when I can. And. . . . Twice, just twice before, I managed to push my conscious over his, push him into the back of his own head, and take the reigns. I've been punished gravely every time, but each time it has been worth it.

I fight, not just for my freedom, but for my sister and the people of Gravity Falls. I see them through Bills eye, and know they're worth saving. It's taken decades of waiting, watching, hoping, dreaming, and remembering. . . .but something big is coming.

I'll be free, I'll find my sister. . . .but I'm afraid I won't be able too. When I took over Bills triangular form and used his powers, he punished me by damaging my memories, in hopes of breaking my will and spirit. . . . .but I've just clung all the tighter to them. My memories and hopes are all I have left.

He heavily attacked memories of my sister last time. I can barely remember what she looks like. . . .a flurry of flying skirts and shadowed hair, a snatch of laughter a stomping steps as she whirls and prances amd dances with me. . . . .and a name, so worn and faded I'm not entirely sure its correct. . . .

. . . . .Marci Evergreen. . . .

I can guess your wondering by now who the hecks I am. I guess I'll tell you. . . .I barely recall it, though.

My name is Stancio Evergreen. I have done terrible things, things I couldn't control but thought I could. I have tried to fight the Darkness that approaches and lighten its assault into a less threatening Shade; something that can be combatted, somehow, instead of the overflowing, overpowering tide it would've been otherwise.

I was once just a regular man. . . .but one who's seen the world, and seen my brand new home grow old and change; but subtly, subtly over the years.

My name is Stancio Evergreen, and I wish I could shed tears. I have messed with the mind of an innocent family member. . . .and even though forced, I ended up using it to my future advantage.

I am as bad as Bill Cipher in many ways. . . .but why I've done what I've done makes me different than him. . . .I think, anyway . . . I'm not so sure anymore . . . . .

.

.

.

.

.

It is night, yet many things are happening. Mysterious and not so mysterious things. Supernatural and natural. Paranormal and normal. Magical and mundane. Anomalous and typical. Gravity Falls is really one-of-a-kind. There is a concentrated levels of magic, geographically and naturally; and by "naturally", I mean . . .well, to best put it, it and the surrounding area are saturated in magic, which attracts all the magical creatures, and create the geographic oddities like the size-altering crystals.

I sigh softly, exhausted from many things . . . . then decide to sing.

" _~A flock of little bluejays_  
 _Flitting about on their way_  
 _But one of them is white as snow_  
 _Why he is, no one knows._

 _A second bluejay has extra claws_  
 _But no one notices her little flaw_  
 _Because they love to taunt and jeer_  
 _At the white bluejay who they secretly fear_

 _People say that only birds of a feather_  
 _Are the ones who will flock together_  
 _But I argue, this isn't true, I'll shout_  
 _A different bird shouldn't be thrown out._

 _Because it doesn't matter at all_  
 _If you're red or green or short or tall_  
 _What matters most is what's inside_  
 _The heart of the matter shouldn't ever be jibed._

 _Because what really matters is the heart_  
 _And if you house a gentle soul_  
 _I just know_  
 _How different can we really be?_  
 _From all the other birds sitting in the trees?_

 _So my friend, please come with me_  
 _We'll fly away_  
 _Two birds of the same heart_  
 _And nothing will ever drag them apart._

 _As they love one another_  
 _For siblings that's all that matters_  
 _So please, come join me.~_ "

I'm not sure where this song has come from, but its. . . .familiar, I guess. I smile slightly, barely, then let it drop. It was raspy, and quiet, but was still melodious and inviting. I used to sing for my sister in the woods, a tune for her to dance to . . . I think. I can barely recall . . . it is, more of . . .more of an impression, rather than certainty. I'm not sure if I sang for her while she danced, or if it was the other way around . . . I just can't . . . be sure of my past reality anymore. . . .

.

.

.

.

I am near-expressionless, my body limp, but mind active.

My name is Stancio Evergreen. My twin sister Marci Evergreen is my most important memory. Dipper, Mabel, Stanford, and Stanley are the family I work hardest to save.

I try my best to hold together, but, although my body is still twenty years old, ones' mind can only last so long.

I try to keep from fracturing, splintering. . . .but I can fee l myself falling apart. "I've tried so hard to help every one. . ." I think sadly. I feel a sob rise in my chest, but I swallow the noise down.

"Is it too much to hope for someone to help me?" I think brokenly, desolately. . . .pitifully, tearfully, but without any tears I can shed. I have done my best. . . I have saved some family . . . I . . . I played a trick, one I hope will help more than hurt . . . I'm tired of watching Bill manipulate and hurt people . . . and it hurts me inside that I've stooped to his level . . .

Stanley thinks he has a triplet brother that Bill Cipher stole away when they were seven . . . and that the very same demon wiped all memory of him, "Stancio Pines", clean from everyone and everywhere. . . except for him, for whatever reason. He's been carrying it ever since . . . it was a single memory I messed with, in hopes that . . . that it would help me. . .

. . . _**ME**_. I don't want this any longer. And . . . didn't I already explain all of this before? Before what . . . and to whom? Oh, dear . . . I already suspected, but I guess. . . .I guess it was inevitable. A hundred-plus years alone with a madman, er, mad- _triangle_ , I suppose, constantly talking to you and draining you of energy and destroying your memories. . . I guess it's difficult to keep from going crazy. . . or, rather, a little crazy. . . I'm not full-gone yet.

" _~I'm holding out on hope . . ._  
 _Us, give up? Never! Nope. . ._  
 _Looking ahead, and keep strong_  
 _One way, or 'nother, it won't be long . . .~_ "

I cut off, fall silent. Not like I was being very loud, anyway, in the first place.

* * *

I've given them the clues, the hints, the shove. . . .even through the heavy interference Bill is putting up. I'm holding fast, though. This is the third time I've ever taken control of his abilities and powers . . . and the second in just over a week. I could only hope. Hope and beg whatever higher power, Fate or Luck or the Universe or what . . . .

That the world wouldn't go up in flames. That they could defeat Bill, and stop him forever. That they might, on some off chance, make it out alive. And maybe, just, just maybe . . . they'll find a way to save my sister. . . I don't care what happens to me anymore. I'm . . .I'm just a placeholder. I won't matter afterwards, in the grand scheme of things . . .

. . . but my sister matters to me. And I'm not going to go down without at least TRYING to stop the demon that threatens the world . . . nor will I ever let him touch my sister. . . . they're all getting close to figuring out the door. . . every symbol has a corresponding person that "aligns" with it, you could say.

For the first time in thousands and thousands of years, all ten people who fit into each of their symbols are all around at the same time . . . .and in close proximity to eachother. . . .almost. Ones a ghost, from what Cipher is always going on about, and another is locked up somewhere. Not that I've ever seen them. Apparently, it's not of his concern, because there is practically only one way each for either of them to become threats and thus a cause to be taken note of . . .

I can hear HIM now, screaming insults and threats and cussing at me from the back of my mind. I've learned how to tune it out. I'm currently possessing Bill right now . . .pretty sure I've gone over this, so, I'll stop there. I'm hovering over my human body, waiting for them to emerge into this inner, magical cave. . . for this cave is set partially in the Mindscape.

Those that know how will be able to manipulate it . . . just like how Bill can. . . however, its still in the Physical Plane, too; unlike being directly in the Mindscape, like when Soos, Mabel, and Dipper went to stop Bill from stealing the code to the safe. . . .they can _DIE_ here . . .in Stanfords' mindscape, had they been "destroyed", it would only really have shoved them out and back into their bodies, awake, safe, and sound.; they wouldn't have actually died.

Here, the trials are real; very, very real. I don't want anyone else to die. . . .but it's too late. It's out of my control now . . .either they defeat Bill now, a final stand . . . . . or the whole worlds going up in flames.

* * *

 _Marci (POV)_

I watch them leave, begging silently for them to win . . .I'm not entirely sure what's going on; all I know is that every creature in the forest, paranormal, supernatural, magical, or otherwise has hidden themselves. They can sense what's coming; so can I. I've been a ghost for years, I can detect some of these things. Mostly flaring energy bursts, primarily of the magical kind.

I felt something HUGE about thirty years ago . . . and then the second Mystery Quartet stopped coming. Carla hadn't visited for months before, Lee seemed to be wrapped up in whatever project he was working on, Ford was off doing who-knows-what, though he still came to rant occasionally, and didn't pay attention to a word I wrote.

Only Fiddles really came and talked and theorized or anything else at all . . .and even then, it was rare. After the energy burst out, sweeping across the forest. . . .all the creatures knew. They _knew_. They finally understand why they'd felt chills down their spines, the tension in the air, the uneasiness and feeling of an attack coming from practically every-which-way until it happened.

So, they basically knew what to expect the second time. And this third thing, well . . . if it goes bad. . .I don't know what will happen. Not exactly. One thing I know is that Mabels' promise is most likely going to be broken; even if or when she does come back. I don't have the strength to keep going, and I lied about the spell; we never tested it at all, so it might not even _work_ , for all I know.

Most ghosts have an Obsession. They constantly follow and seek it out, and the drive they feel to do so gives them the energy they need.

Or, like the Lumberjack ghost, he stayed in one place and his energy mounted higher and higher until the day he would reign terror on the Northwests. Depending on how that went, he either killed them all and dissipated into negative spectral energy on the overall plane, or he dispersed happily, his Unfinished Business(which is different than your Obsession, though they can be related) finished, and he's able to transcend to the happier place above.

I'm fading too fast, though . . .I'm not sure what's going to happen to me exactly, but I can only guess that I'll disperse into something between positive and negative energy. I'm not sure if my quill writing pen, inkpot, or journal will remain behind . . .The most I hope for is that they manage to save my brother. Worst comes to worst, I'll dispel the last of my energy to physically pick up my quill and write a final message for him.

One on the tree and one in the journal, since I'm not sure if it'll disappear with me. All I can really do now is wait and hope. It's all most of us can do now, and there are children fighting a war not meant for them . . . quite yet, anyway.

Who am I even _kidding_ ; **I'm** a child, having never reached thirteen. My brother . . . _was_ , a child . . . I'm not sure what he is now. . . .

I sniffle silently and rub at my eyes. I can't actually shed tears when I cry, but sometimes, I get the phantom sensation of tears. I choke out a silent laugh. "Phantom sensation", I'm a ghost or spector? Get it?! I bark out another laugh, though it lacks any mirth . . . I don't even know why I'm laughing. It's not like anyone can hear me. Even to other ghosts, I was practically a mute.

A lot of the weaker ones avoided me, too. According to them, I had the energy of tenth-category ghost; I once spoke to the lumberjack ghost. He's a tenth-level ghost, and at first, he acted afraid, or at least wary of me. I don't really know why . . . I don't want to scare people. Not at all. People or ghosts. The sensation of tears gathers around my eyes again.

I wipe at the nonexistent tears, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, a mute giggle escaping me. _'Phantom sensations . . .ghosts, ghouls, specters . . .'_ I giggle again, but I am not happy. I am sobbing.

Just a scared, invisible, mute kid. No one can help me, not anymore. I sent away the people who would stand a chance at helping me to help my brother, and stop whatever catastrophe that is about to happen . . .

* * *

 **"Through love, they try to save**  
 **The ones they hold dear,**  
 **And try to be brave**  
 **But when alone, the memories appear**  
 **With intent to haunt and sear**

 **There is much to be afraid of**  
 **But just stand tall with you brother**  
 **And show them what your made of**  
 **Because you think and fight like no other**

 **Just never give up or give in**  
 **Cause if you do, there is only loss,  
** **And no single chance of a win.  
** **So just keep on going, even through the tears  
** **Just keep on going, despite the memories of past years**

 **Because people do what they do sometimes**  
 **Out of Fear, and out of Love**  
 **For the ones they don't want to lose,**  
 **And just want to hold close and tightly hug.**

 **So please don't cry, even though we are**  
 **Not near. So please don't cry,**  
 **even though we're, so far**  
 **From finding eachother before we might. . .die.**

 **Please, hold onto my lost song  
Or lullaby. The memory might solace you  
Even though my voice is, gone . . .  
So please, hold onto it, for me . . .  
Even if it's only a . . .dream, or memory . . ."**

 **~A~S~D~F~G~H~J~K~L**

 **"Gsv tmzhsrmt gvvgs zmw xirnrmzo glmtfvh xlmhkriv ztzrmhg gsv lwwh  
** **Yfg gsvb szevm'g hvvm gsv yvhg lu fh bvg**

 **Ru blf olev nv ovg nv tl  
** **Ru blf olev nv ovg nv tl**

 **'Xzfhv gsvhv dliwh ziv pmrevh gszg lugvm ovzev hxzih  
** **Gsv uvzi lu uzoormt zkzig"**

 **~Gsrh Rh Tlhkvo  
** **Hlmt yb "Kzmrx! zg gsv Wrhxl"**


	14. , , ,Which is Which? , , ,

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **And so, I thus revealed in the last chapter that there is no triplet stuff; just a separate, third set of twins, one of which who's hand was forced by his captor years ago, and regrets it so very, very deeply. Poor buddy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14:** . . .Which is Which? . .

* * *

They took turns, one person at a time approaching the carving before backing away again. It was easy to pinpoint who seemed to represent each symbol.

Dipper was the Pine Tree, Mabel was the Shooting Star, Stanford was the Crescent Spike, Stanley was the Glasses, Soos was the Question Mark, Wendy was the Ice Pack, and Fiddleford was the Stitched Heart.

As they grew a little bolder with touching the carving, Mabel made an accidental discovery. By pushing on her symbol, she could make that whole "slot" move back, like a reverse dresser drawer. It was difficult, however, so Ford offered to help. But when she moved aside so he could . . .it didn't even budge. In fact, the short ways she had pushed it in -a few inches- almost immediately moved back to it's original placement, jarring the mans fingers.

He yelped and cursed, "Fudge!?" as he shook his hand. It didn't take much to guess that one could only push open their own symbol; alone, and unaided. So, they all did so, doing it together on the count of three.

It took a minute for them to push them in all the way . . . but when they did, the entire thing flashed brightly yellow, and all of the symbols flashed once, in order. they all backed away, watching closely and tensely.

First the Eyed Star and Six-Fingered Hand flashed in unison, then the Glasses and Crescent-Spike in unison, next the Stitched Heart, the Question Mark, and Ice Pack, one after another, then the Llama, and, finally, the Shooting Star and Pine Tree in unison.

The entire flashed brightly once more, prompting them to shield their eyes; then, the entire engraved image faded away, stone and all, leaving a rough passage way to walk through.

"Jackpot!" exclaimed Wendy, shifting so she could high five Mabel.

"If we're going to go in there, we should use the buddy system." Fiddleford suggested, nervously edging back from the dark hole in the rock.

Lee nodded. "Okay. . . um, we should divide it up so that our skills line up in some way; so as to shore up the other person weaknesses."

Before they could, however, their was a fearful shout. "Dipper!?" Mabel screeched.

"Mabel?!" Dipper shouted back, pounding on some invisible barrier, having strayed into the tunnel.

"Dudes!" Soos exclaimed, rushing forward to try and help.

"What's happening?!" Wendy yelped, following after. She managed to stop Mabel from grabbing for her brother, fearing she'd get trapped, too, even as Dipper panicked and shouted.

"Dipper?! Why did you-?!" Grunkle Stanford started, but a dull rumbling cut them all off. It was coming from the tunnel.

Dipper sniffled a little, turning and pressing his back into the barrier, watching the tunnel in fear. "W-what was that?" he asked, sounding small and scared.

Mabel broke free from the others grasp and darted forwards, tackling her brother with a hug. She passed through the barrier to her brothers side, but from the way she was now leaning against it where she sat, hugging her twin, it was now blatantly obvious.

One way in, no way out.

Soos put on a determined face and stepped boldly into the tunnel, helping his two friends to their feet. Wendy grit her teeth and followed, picking up the lantern first.

She glanced back at the elder Mystery Trio. "Well?" this question prompted the stunned old-timers to follow them, albeit uneasily and tensely; but they still came.

Dipper got a light cuff over the head from Ford. "Next time, wait for everyone else before investigating spooky, magical, underground tunnels." he said gruffly, though his worry and relief were clear in his voice.

Dipper only nodded, holding his sisters hand tightly.

"So, now what?" Wendy asked, shining the lantern-light further down the tunnel. There was a very faint light ahead; either because it was a long ways off, or because it was simply very dim.

"We stay together, as a group. If we take Him head-on, then we'll stand a much better chance than if we're alone." Soos replied instantly.

"Yeah! Nothing can beat us as we long as we remain positive and work together!" Mabel chimed in.

"We need a plan, some way to go at him . . . some angle he won't see or expect." Dipper added, albeit quietly, glancing at the walls and shadows suspiciously.

Somehow, the youth had taken charge, while the elders watched and listened; both to them and their surroundings, in hopes that they could spot any threat before it approached.

"Hm . . .remember the Sock Opera?" Mabel asked.

There were collective nods and "Yeah"s from the group; other than Fiddleford and Stanley, whom, obviously, hadn't attended.

Mabel quickly explained how Bill, while possessing Dipper (or "Bipper", as she'd called him) had acted when she fell inside the cake prop and nearly handed over the journal.

"He said something about 'who would give up all they've worked at just for some stupid sibling'; he seemed really surprised when I answered that my bro-bro here would. He seemed really confused and surprised; then all I had to do was yank him into the cake with me and then we fought on the stage." she finished.

"That . . .explains a lot. No wonder you were acting so weird that day, Dipper." Wendy commented, gently punching his shoulder.

"So, he's unfamiliar with how human bonds work? How far someone will go to help another person?" Fiddleford clarified.

Mabel nodded. "I believe so. He seemed to think that I was gonna just hand over the journal without a second thought to my brother, just to keep the play from being ruined. I . . ." she glanced at her brother affectionately. ". . .my Dipping'dot comes first, and everything else after him." she said firmly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"We need to figure out how to beat him; me and Fidds have dealt with him in the past, and you two told me about how you had your own run in with him; and apparently more times than you mentioned. We need to figure this out . . ." Stanford dropped off, thinking hard.

They had no more time to talk as, suddenly, the tunnel suddenly branched off into three more; these were smaller; barely higher than the eldest Pines Twins heads, and narrower, meaning they'd have to walk single file.

"Which way do we go?" asked Dipper, voice cracking and becoming high pitched and squeaky; 'Stupid puberty voice. . .' he thought. He was warier of the tunnels now; what if they chose the wrong one and couldn't turn back? What if they got separated? He wasn't going to let that happen. He wasn't going to leave his sister.

Suddenly, words appeared above the three tunnels, in a big arc, initially glowing, then fading into carvings in the rock.

 **TO GAIN PASSAGE INTO THE MINDSCAPE CAVE**  
 **YOU MUST PROVE YOUR SKILLS, AND THAT YOU'RE BRAVE**

 **FACE YOUR PAST, OR YOUR WORST FEARS**  
 **THINGS TO SCARE AND TAUNT AND BREAK YOU DOWN TO TEARS**

 **GO WHICHEVER WAY, BUT WISELY CHOOSE**  
 **TO WIN MAY FEEL MORE LIKE A LOSE**

They all glanced at one another. A few seconds later, the words glowed and vanished, replaced by new ones appearing above each tunnel, starting on the leftmost one, then the middle, then the rightmost one.

 **FEARS**

 **MEMORIES**

 **UNKNOWN**

They all glanced at one another. Before they could move, there was a distant rumbling crash. They all flinched, and Lee growled quietly out of reflex. They all looked back down the tunnel they had just come from. Something was . . .moving towards them.

It was water.

 _The tunnels were flooding._

"Whaddya we do?!" Soos screeched.

Fiddleford pointed to the other three tunnels. The invisible, (and no doubt magical) barriers were keeping the water out. Of course, all the better to drive them in.

Whether they wanted to or not.

"Go, go go!" Wendy shouted, while Ford yelled, "Run for it!"

They scattered, slogging through the water that was already knee-deep for the adults and steadily rising, getting into the tunnels.

They were separated, and with great trials to come.

Fiddleford, Mabel, and Soos ended up in the " **Memories** " tunnel, Ford and Dipper in the " **Fears** " one, and Lee and Wendy in the " **Unknown** " tunnel.

"Is everyone alright?" Ford shouted, even as the water rose higher; soon, they wouldn't be able to hear eachother at all.

"Me, McGucket, and Mabel are alright, Mr. Pines!" Soos shouted back.

"I'm with Wendy, brother!" Lee called.

"Dipper? Where's Dipper?!" Mabel shouted, starting to panic.

"I'm with Grunkle Stan, Mabel! I'm alright!" he called back, trying to be reassuring.

The water rose to the roof of the original tunnel; they would not be able to hear eachother any longer. No way back; they could only go forward.

* * *

Wendy and Stanley walked down the tunnel, wary and watchful. They had ended up with the lantern, which seemed to threaten to flicker out at any moment, it's light dingy and weak in the darkness.

"Which tunnel do you think we got, anyway?" Wendy asked after a few minutes of walking.

Lee shrugged. "Not entirely sure. . . the rightmost one?"

Wendy nodded, frowning in thought. "Well, I think in that case, we got the . . ." she trailed off as they were suddenly bathed in bright light. Both flinched and closed their eyes, peeking out hesitantly.

"Woah . . ." was all Wendy said.

"Oh, god no . . ." Lee whispered, utterly horrified and terrified.

They were standing in a huge, rocky crater colored deep blue and lime green, and dingy dark blue soot and ash was scattered everywhere in it, smearing and sticking to their boots. The rock spread out in a large, barren expanse for at least half a mile, with a small, square-ish shape rising up halfway between them and a strange forest.

The plants were twisted and strange, bright dark crimson reds and mustard yellows, and the tree were pale pink with darker fuchsia pink leaves. Small, blood-red dots could be seen here and there on some of the trees. The sky above was bright pink and orange, mixed together like paints in bands and swirls. There was no visible sun or anything to account for the brightness.

In the far distance, brown-black-purple clouds moved in, bright yellow-orange-red-blue streams spouting from it with distance rumblings; like a landslide, like a bomb, like a lions roar; all rolled into one, extremely loud and earth-shaking sound; though, from this far away, it was bare tremors beneath their feet.

Wendy glanced at Lee, immediately struck with how terrified he was at their surroundings, which were completely unknown to her. . . _Unknown_.

* * *

Fiddleford, Mabel, and Soos had lingered by the tunnel entrance for several minutes before going. Soos went first, feeling his way with one hand and holding Mabels tightly in the other. Mabel, in turn, held on of Grunkle Fiddles hands, seeing as the poor scientist seemed scared worse than they were.

"Which tunnel did we end up in?" Fiddles asked at one point, after they seemed to be walking for hours, though it had only been five minutes, in the pitch darkness.

"Hm, I dunno. I wasn't paying attention." Soos laughed a little, nervously. "Sorry, dudes."

"No, no, it's alright." Mabel reassured them both. "I think we got the Memory one . . .what do you think we'll face?" she asked.

There was no time to reply, as, suddenly, afternoon light appeared before them. The continued walking only to freeze in place when they got there, suddenly finding themselves on the edge of cliff. They peered down and say the railway tracks that stretched between the Floating Cliffs above the town.

And, perched on top of it, was the Gideon-Bot, Mabel in its grasp, turning in surprise as Dipper flung himself at it from somewhere above them, smashing through the eye.

Wait. . . "Dude!?" Soos shouted, realizing that Mabel was no longer beside them.

Mabel, now clinging to the robots thumb, turned wide eyes in their direction. "Soos!?" she shouted back, only to cry out and grip tighter as the robot started to flail about and attack an invisible opponent.

* * *

Dipper and Stanford walked down the tunnel in silence. Ford had pulled out one of the candles he had brought along and lit it. Dipper squinted in the darkness, nervous and wary.

At length, Ford cleared his throat. "You doing okay?" he asked, pausing and looking behind him as Dipper craned his neck upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y-yeah. . . I'm fine . . .just. . ." he glanced uneasily back the way they came.

Ford turned around fully and crouched before his great-nephew. "Dipper, listen, it's okay to be scared. I've been scared dozens of times before," he admitted. "The one thing I learned, though, was how to work through the fear and keep on going, and not let anything hold you back."

Dipper looked to the side. "We got 'Fear'." he replied.

Ford blinked, ataken back. "What?"

"Fear . . . you know? The tunnel? I . . ." he trailed off. "I'm afraid of what we'll see . . ."

Ford nodded, gently pulling Dipper close, holding him as he stood back up with a grunt.

"Gr-grunkle Stan?" Dipper questioned. He was basically sitting on his relatives arm, back against his chest.

"I'm not gonna let anything hurt you." he turned and started walking back down the tunnel. "We'll get through this together."

Dipper smiled hesitantly and nodded, small hands gripping at Stans' suit. "R-right . . . it can't be that bad, right?" he asked.

"Ri- _AAHHH?!_ " Ford started to reply, but shrieked and leapt back; or tried to.

The ground before them had vanished. They were standing on a tiny piece of rock, barely four paces wide and circular. Ford had frozen in place. Surrounding the entire thing was inky blackness; overhead, underneath, forwards, backwards, left and right. Dipper clung tighter.

"What's going on?" Dipper asked in a small voice. His face in the candlelight was confused and scared. Stan carefully shifted into a kneeling position, a terrified look in his eyes, despite his efforts to hide it.

He set the candle down near the edge and shifted Dipper so he was facing his Grunkles chest, arms wrapped around him in a hug-like fashion. "Grunkle Stan?" he asked again.

"If you hear anything, just hide your face." Ford said quietly, gazing out into the darkness.

"Wh-what? Why?" Dipper asked. He was seated on Stans knees, and was scared at the absolutely terrified and resigned look on his great-uncles face.

"Just do it, kid. . ." there was little heart in the resigned demand, though he tightened his hug-like grip on the boy protectively . . . and in fear.

A blood-curdling scream sounded nearby, and, as if by an unseen spotlight, another piece of floating land appeared, lit up in the darkness. Stan held Dipper tighter, hiding his face from view; the boy soon nuzzled his face into his Grunkles' chest, beginning to quiver in fear. Stan couldn't look away; even though he tried. Even as he tried to duck his head down and shut his eyes, he couldn't look away.

. . . .he couldn't look away from the bloody piece of dirt and rock and grass, a body laying limply on it, sprawled out . . . he choked back a wheezing, terrified sob as he caught sight of the bright pink sweater, stained with crimson blood.

* * *

 **Meh, I couldn't think of anything poetic. So . . . the tunnels basically create a huge simulation, tailored per how each characters fear/memory whatever is. Like, a certain memory of something that scared them the most, or their worst fear, either through experience or otherwise. Unknown is, well . . . unknown.**

 **So, yeah, that about sums that up. If you have any suggestions for the others fear/whatever they face, feel free to send that stuff in. It could be fun!**

 **"Uzoormt gslfts gsv Wzip zmw Ortsg  
** **Dvg nziph lm blf uiln z tivzg uirtsg  
** **Hzogb dzin gvzih lm blfi uzxv zmw xsrm  
** **Zmw xlkkvib xirnhlm hxzggvivw uiln gsv drm. . ."**


	15. , , ,Wishes to See it Burn , , ,

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

* * *

 **Chapter 15:** . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .

* * *

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched away with a growl, smacking her hand off, scrambling back. His eyes were wide, and it took him a moment to settle and register that she was there.

"N-no . . ." he stood slowly, glancing all around, then focused on the clouds in the distance. He began to sprint towards the square-ish shape. Wendy stared a moment, then sprinted after him.

"Hey, wait up!" she shouted.

He glanced back, eyes wild, then slowed, waiting until she caught up, grabbing her hand and dragging her along with him. Reaching the shelter, he ran his hands over what seemed to be a pile of thin, flat, painted wood, leaned against a building painted similar. Grunting, he shoved aside a large piece, revealing a shadowed interior. He poked his head inside the small opening, looked around, then pushed it open wider, motioning for Wendy to go in first.

Wendy barely hesitated, then darted inside, having to squeeze, barely fitting. She briefly wondered how Lee would manage to get in through the narrow crack. By the time she turned around, he was already inside, shoving the outer panel back in place, then doing the same with one inside. As Wendy still had the lantern, the small space was lit; though it would appear he hadn't realized that yet, seeing as his eyes were closed.

He circled the entire thing, hands against the walls, feeling the rounded, pink tree trunks that seemed to help support the whole structure. The whole thing appeared to be little bigger than a small garden shed. There was a large pile of pink leaves, most dried out, some fresher, that he finally flopped onto, breathing uneven, expression troubled. There was a small basket that seemed to be woven of similar pink branches to the trees, filled with blood-red fruit; or at least, it looked a little bit like fruit.

Wendy sat down at the edge of the apparent bed. "So, what now?" she asked, setting the lantern down by the basket.

The reaction was instantaneous. He bolted upright and lunged with a loud snarl, pinning her to the ground. Wendy, shocked, struggled. She was very surprised to find that he was very lightweight, as he wasn't crushing her as she initially thought was happening. She managed to hit him on his right side when he tried to readjust his grip on her flailing limbs. He immediately cried out in pain, a hand grasping the spot.

She threw him off and scrambled back. The lantern, still shining, revealed the expressions of pain and shock on his face as he practically wheezed from the blow. He looked up with a hate-filled, furious look, eyes open and teeth bared; only for it to drop into confused, pained surprise. He looked around the space, then looked back to Wendy, who by now was confused, too, yet ready to defend herself again.

"W . . .Wendy?" he wheezed, trying to shift his position, only to wince and gasp out a low growl, that sounded more pained than threatening.

"Yeah, Lee?" she asked guardedly.

He seemed to cringe at her tone. "S . . .sorry." he gasped out. "I didn't . . .I mean, these shapeshifter . . .creatures . . . I wasn't trying . . .I . . .god . . ." he was so terrified, and hurt, that Wendy wasn't sure what to do, so she remained silent.

"Tr . . .trapped here. . . for so long . . .never wanted to . . .I thought that I . . .I'd escaped it . . . forever . . .I'm scared that . . ." he got out, wincing as he held his side, managing to shift himself so he could lean against a wall.

"You were trapped here? Really? How'd you even get here?" she asked. She'd already been told a little about this, but there hadn't been time for any proper explanation.

"Portal . . underneath the Mystery Shack . . .years ago, and there . . . there was an accident . . .different dimensions and . . .stuff. Ended up here, and . . .thirty years ago and I . . ." he hesitated. ". . .I only experienced three." he finished, gesturing to the wall behind her.

She turned, and gaped. The wall had hundreds of marks, each blood-red. She quickly turned back. "Did you . . ?" she let the question hang, her horror clear.

He shook his head quickly. "No . . .these fruit." he picked one up from the basket, holding it up. "They're juice is like that . . it's freaky, and weird, but they're edible . . " he scoffed. "Probably the only edible thing in this entire dang place."

"Wait a sec. . .Mabel and Soos mentioned something the other day about her grandfather, Mr. Pines twin, being back . . .that's _you_? I thought you were the twins -Mabel and Dipper's- dad or uncle or something." she asked in disbelief. "What happened?" All she'd been told about the man was that he was a Pines man, a relative brought back.

Given the freaky weirdness of Gravity Falls, and what she'd seen and heard about on previous adventures the twins had, it hadn't been too huge of a stretch to believe the story of where the man suddenly appeared from.

Lee sighed, and went on to quietly explain how he, Ford, and Fidds had constructed the portal together, the accident that sent him inside, some of his experience in what he simply dubbed the "Crayon Dimension", and what little he had been told so far since waking up again the other day.

Wendy nodded thoughtfully. "Hm . . .I understand why you tackled me, then. You're not used to dealing with this craziness with another person. And you've only had a chance to readjust starting yesterday . . ." she mused aloud, then realized something. "I struck you in the ribs pretty hard, are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

He shrugged. "I was clawed pretty bad by one of the shapeshifter-like creatures a day or so before returning home . . . it's still healing up, I guess." he replied with a small shrug. "We need to figure out how to get out of here, though." he suddenly sounded worried and scared, more like a child than an adult.

Wendy rubbed her chin in thought. "I'm pretty sure we got the 'Unknown' tunnel . . . and this place is pretty unknown to me." she shrugged. "And it's obvious that it's unknown for you to have to deal with and watch out for someone else here. I'm pretty sure this place isn't real . . ." she trailed off, thinking.

Stanley nodded, tapping his chin. Seeming to suddenly get an idea, he stood quickly, only to groan in pain and stumble heavily, a hand wrapped around his right side as his fell back against the wall.

Wendy jumped up and approached to help him as he tried to walk it off, making it worse. "Hey, man! Maybe you should sit down a few more minutes. I hit pretty hard." she suggested, helping him ease back into a sitting position when he nodded and wheezed. He ended up slouching heavily against the wall, not even attempting to support his own weight at the moment.

"I'm . . .alright. . ." he got out, closing his eyes. "Just . . . got up to quick . . ."

"Head rush?" Wendy questioned, sitting across from him.

He opened his eyes a little, half-shrugging one shoulder. "Head rush." he confirmed, though he wasn't sure of the newer slang of this decade.

Wendy nodded seriously, remaining silent and giving him a chance to breath and recover.

"I have an idea . . . not sure if it'll work, though. . ." he gasped out, managing to sit upright as the pain eased off.

"Yeah?" Wendy replied.

"Basically, this place isn't real, like you said; it's an imitation. The thing said something about a 'Mindcave', which leads me to think that this whole place must be similar to the Mindscape . . ."

"Which would be?" she asked.

"Well, the Mindscape is a plane outside our own, which would be the Plane of the Living. There's also the Spectral Plane, where ghosts reside, though they can cross over quite easily. Bill Cipher, the demon we'll most likely be facing, lives and draws energy from the Mindscape. It's black and white and grey, compared to our own place, and he can enter our plane if summoned, or under certain circumstances, merge to the two partially in a contained area of space." he explained.

Wendy frowned at this. "The whole town was black and white like that just last week or so . . . it was right after the gravity was acting all weird. Just as it was getting super-bad, though, me, and my brothers were covered in this blue-glowy stuff as everything seemed to go into reverse, as if nothing had been flung about. They seemed asleep, though, and didn't remember any of it when they woke up after the blue stuff left and everything went back to normal."

Stanley frowned at this, thinking. "They told me that Bill had . . .that no one recalled . . ." his eyes widened, and he grinned a small amount, chuckling a little.

"What's so funny?" Wendy demanded, frowning

"Eh, my little bro. Spoke to me when I fell asleep after leaving that stupid dimension." he laughed again, grinning.

"What?" Wendy asked flatly, confused and wary once more, though this time she tried to hide it.

Stanley laughed a little more, then explained about a third sibling, a Triplet brother, in fact, to him and Ford, who Bill had taken away, and wiped any trace of him away when they were kids, leaving only him to recall.

Her frown deepened. "What was he like?" she asked skeptically.

Lee brightened. "Well, he . . . he. . ." his smile faded into confusion. ". . . he's not . . . real?" he muttered under his breath. "Why else would . . ."

A furious look overcame him, and he leapt to his feet with an angry bellow.

" _ **BILL**_ **!?** "

Wendy cringed a little, even as his hands curled into fists and he marched towards the "door" of the small shelter.

"What is it?" she demanded, picking up the lantern as she stood.

"Bill once invaded my mind . . . he entered my personal mindscape. He must've messed up one of my childhood memories so he could try and manipulate me later on. But I'm not gonna let him; not anymore. Come on; let's get the heck out of here and go kick his butt." he explained, shoving the panels open wide.

Wendy nodded and followed. He marched determinedly towards the forest nearby. "This place isn't real; it can do no harm to us!" he shouted, moving towards a large plant that had a ginormous blossom, bigger than a bus.

The blossom suddenly snapped open, inside ringed clearly by several large, sharp, serrated teeth that were at least as long as Wendy's arm, and dripping a strange, blue-black liquid. A grey-brown tongue was writhing inside, thick as she was and three times as long as she was tall. It snapped at Stanley, encasing him whole.

Wendy screamed, scrabbling away and tripping, landing on her back. But then the blossom pulled away to its previous position, and Stanley was still standing there; as if the plant hadn't even touched him. He turned to look at Wendy with a shaky grin.

"This is all a huge trick . . ." he held out a hand to help her up. "We can manipulate this place however we want." she took his hand, and he helped her to her feet.

"Lets do this." she said, determined. Together, they charged through the forest, passing through trees and rocks and plants and creatures that really _did_ resemble the shapeshifter Wendy had seen previously, except these were a little bigger, and seemed less intelligent.

After several minutes of alternately running and walking, they came to a large cliff that dropped far, far down. "I've never . . . seen this." Stanley admitted. "I never really entered the forest unless I had too, and I never went as far as we did."

Wendy inched closer and peered over the edge. It was a steep drop going several hundred feet, with sharp, pointy rocks and plenty of tell-tale shapeshifter corpses and skeletons, though a lot of the newer ones seemed to be . . . pitted. With several small holes, though nothing seemed to be eating them, bugs or otherwise. She motioned for Stanley to come closer, pointing this out.

"What do you think is with that?"

"Acid rain." he replied. "It affects everything here in some way, shape, or form. . . . _Wait a minute_ . . ." he peered across the small canyon. "Do you see that?" he asked at last, pointing.

There was a tunnel, similar to the ones they had enter previously. Two shapes seemed to flash alternately above it.

"Yeah . . .I wonder . . ." Wendy stepped back a few paces, took a deep breath, and, even as Stanley eyed her quizzically, she went for it. Wendy sprinted and lunged forward as far as she could. She knew she wouldn't be able to reach the tunnel, seeing as it was at least a hundred feet away. Stanley shouted, but she landed on . . . . . . something.

It was an invisible bridge; just as she had imagined. She took a moment to steady herself, then turned to see Lee's stunned expression. "Invisible bridge." she explained, making the universal gesture for 'come here'. "It's safe, come on!"

He hesitated, then nodded, a determined look about him as he took a cautious step off of the cliff and onto the bridge before running her way. They ran, side by side, until they reached the tunnel. The symbols above the tunnel entrance were the Ice Bag and the Glasses; the same symbols they had each had to shove into place to first enter this madhouse.

They glanced at one another, then continued into the tunnel. Looking back a few moments later, they could see the place where they had first entered; and if the fish swimming in midair were anything to go by, then it was still sealed by water. Not ten feet ahead, the tunnel opened into a large, tall cavern, lit by torches hung about the walls. Two tunnels to their left were apparent, and out stumbled the others.

* * *

 **That's a wrap! Took me awhile to figure this out. More chapters soon, so, please R &R!**

 **"Ivnvnyvi! IvzorgbRhZmRoofhrlm,GsvFmrevihvRhZSloltizn,IvzwLm,YBBBVVVV!?"**


	16. , , ,Can you Decide? Who, , ,

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **Some pretty dark stuff near the end of this chapter, guys. Just warning you now.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16:** . . .Can you Decide? Who. . .

* * *

"Wh-what do we do?!" Fiddles asked, even as the robot freaked out before them, and Mabel clung on, trying not to freak out as she knew, _KNEW_ that she had done this before, gone through this before.

"I-I dunno!?" Soos replied. "I remember the twins telling us about this happening, but I'm not sure how we can help!"

Suddenly, the robots whole head started spinning in circles, backpedaling with huge stomps that rattled and shook the small ledge underneath them through the railroad track.

The robot fell; Mabel and Dipper slipping from it's relative safety. "Oh no!?" Fiddleford cried out, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around himself, starting to cry.

"Th-this is a-all what my fault . . .if I-I only h-hadn't built th-that stupid r-robot!" he sobbed, refusing to look.

Soos watched the twins fall, worried and tense, even as he placed a hand on the former hillbilly's shoulder in comfort.

* * *

Mabel clung to the robot, just as she had before, earlier in the summer. She knew what was going to happen next; she was practically reliving the same thing. But she was still terrified regardless. Quickly, she paddled through the air, even as Dipper spotted her and shouted, the fear clear in his eyes. She grabbed him by the vest and pulled him closer.

He enveloped her middle in a hug, which she quickly returned one-handed as she pulled out her grappling hook. Aiming it up, she closed one eye and stuck out her tongue before firing. It caught with a clang, but it was drowned out by the giant BOOM sound of the Gideon-bot hitting the ground down below them.

Dipper and Mabel jerked upwards in the air, the rope taut, and Mabel nearly lost her grip on the gun; but she refused to use both hands and let go of Dipper. Dipper, seeming only partially aware of what was going on, let out a small whimper as he clung tighter, crushing her rib cage. She didn't comment on that, knowing that he was merely worried and scared for the both of them.

When they were within a reasonable distance to the ground, she shouted, "Grappling hook!" in victory. She felt the same relief as Dipper opened his eyes and looked around, smiling in amazement.

One thing that amazed Mabel (again) was how long the rope was. Definitely something to remember for later on. Just as they reached the ground, however, everything around her vanished, erased away; she see nothing but herself, and hear nothing but her breathing.

Suddenly, she was back at the Shack with McGucket, who was looking around, still on his knees, still hugging himself, though his sobs were quieting.

"Grunkle Fiddles?" she asked, a placing a hand on his shoulder.

"M-mabel?" he asked. "Wh-where's Soos?" he asked. There were three shouts, and Mabel realized exactly were they were; by the creepy old pinball machine. Both of them rushed over and peered inside.

"Dangit, Ford . . . I thought we agreed to put this thing up." Fidds mumbled, even as he peered inside, adjusting his green spectacles.

Inside, tiny Soos, Mabel, and Dipper were talking to the skull-cowboy guy. Soos, however, was trying to talk to Mabel and Dipper, who were practically ignoring him. real-Mabel tapped on the glass.

"Soos!" she called.

Soos looked up. "Dude! What's happening? Didn't we already live through this? Why are you up there?" he shouted back.

Then, the little Dipper and Mabel called his attention back when they grabbed his hands and started to drag him away, to the sides and out of sight and reach of the pinball's.

* * *

Soos wasn't sure what was going on. He realized that he was reliving this, but still felt scared for the twins. He crouched down to their level and wrapped his arms around them.

"I know this game inside and out. I can shut it off, but we'll need to distract the cowboy guy. Are either of you good at being stalling or making loud noises.

Mabel stood back, a serious look on her face, hair blowing back in a nonexistent wind. "My time . . . has come." she said, with the same amount of seriousness.

The two darted off to stall the guy, and Soos hurried to the minecart rails. He waited until one came and hopped on. It went down, down, down. He leapt off as it reached the mini-elevater and hurried for the manuel power switch.

Just as he went to push it, he noticed the big text underneath his feet. Pausing, he looked down, taking a few steps back so he could see all of it. Despite knowing this had happened before and didn't matter, he kept thinking of his high score; did he really want to lose that? What was the worst thing the cowboy guy could do to them, anyway?

A bit of light appeared, and he looked up to see Dipper and Mabel peering through a screw hole. "Soos, what are you waiting for?" one of them called in a whisper-shout.

"What? Dudes, this has already happened! I-"

"Soos, we don't have time for this!?" Dipper interrupted, ignoring his prior words.

"There you are!" The cowboy-skull interrupted, and both the twins went out of sight, both shouting for Soos to save them.

Soos wasted little time, pushing the button. Everything shut down. More green lightning sparked from the game, and then sparked across Dipper, Mabel, and his own slumbering forms.

They bolted upright with twin gasps, and then tumbled away when Soos jerked upright, as well.

"Hey, man, sorry about you high score." Dipper said sympathetically.

Despite the situation, Soos grinned and wrapped his arms around them. "That's okay, dudes. I got a new best memory; saving you dudes."

Again, everything was erased away; Soos could only see Mabel, and, for a brief moment, Fiddleford(since they were paying attention this time around), before he disappeared as everything seemed to gain shape and snap back into place.

This time, it was like they were on an invisible, floating platform. It was flying high above the ground, keeping pace with two ginormous owls. That had some very unusual prey in it's talons. . .

* * *

Fiddleford knew what was going on. He knew full-well; but that's what made it so terrifying. Even as the owls ducked down under the cloud layer and over the lake, he couldn't stop squirming. He couldn't remember as well what happened next, only some smaller things here and there.

He was younger; back when he was a teen, fourteen or so. The twins, Ford and Lee, were there, too; Ford clutched in one owls talons, Lee next to him in one talon of the bigger owl, and he in the other. He spotted Mabel and Soos, clinging to eachother, obviously trying to figure out what was going on.

"I'm right here, fellers!" he shouted; his way of speech remained the same, even though it came from a younger, puberty-changed voice. Or, chang _ing_. It came out normal, then rose into a squeaky, childish one after the first word.

Mabel and Soos locked eyes with him. "Fiddleford?" Mabel shouted, squinting.

He opened his mouth to reply, then realized how close to the lake they were . . . . "Three!?" came the shout next to him.

There was a pink light from one of the size-altering crystals Lee had grabbed, the owl shrinking down, so small it couldn't hold the two teens any longer. The two fell into the lake, very near to Scuttlebutte island. Lee quickly surfaced again, and Ford wasn't to far off . . .but Fiddleford didn't.

He was panicking, struggling to get to the surface of the water. He somehow managed to reach the surface, gasping and flailing before slipping below again. It was several more seconds before he surfaced again, trying to shout before slipping beneath again; and not coming up.

The closer twin(for it was quite clear by now that the other two boys were) swiftly paddled over and dove below.

Fiddleford was terrified; he didn't know how to swim, and all he could feel was the water, all around him . . . grabbing him, tugging on him, weighing him down, trying to rush inside his mouth and nostrils to drown him. He wasn't sure how he managed to to reach the surface the first two times . . . but now he was sinking, barely aware even as arms wrapped around his chest. . . .

He jolted upright from where he'd been laying, coughing and gasping, ridding his lungs of water and sucking in as much air as he could. Everything was suddenly wiped away clean; the two boys flanking him, the pebbly beach where he'd previously sat; everything melted into inky blackness.

He looked down at himself. Yep - still an old koot in overalls with a backpack . . . but dry, miraculously. Mabel and Soos appeared on either side of him, and helped him to his feet.

"What . . . what _was_ that?" Soos asked, steadying the elder man as he stood, swaying.

"Well . . . I'm a-guessin' a little here -some things are still fuzzy- but I'm pretty sure that that was what when we discovered these size-changin' crystals out in the woods . . . .and then those darn owls . . ." he shuddered, giving a light cough. " . . ."

Mabel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Were the other two Grandpa Lee and Grunkle Stan?" she asked gently, curiously.

Fidds nodded.

"Well, they both seemed pretty freaked out when you went under, dude, and after they pulled you out onto the shore." Soos pointed out, getting Fidds to look at him, smiling a tad.

"You were pretty lucky to have friends like that." Mabel added, smiling as well.

Fiddleford nodded in agreement, smiling a little back. He steadied himself and nodded again. "Right."

The blackness faded, and they found themselves back in the tunnel . . . and barely ten feet from where they entered.

"Huh, weird. It's like some sort of simulation or magical manipulation. Felt so . . . _real_ , though." Soos observed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Mabel shrugged, pointing down the tunnel. Barely ten-to-fifteen feet away it opened up again. "Come on!" they all ran, skidding to a stop outside. On one side, Wendy and Lee had just emerged, gazing around warily.

On the left, was the tunnel that Grunkle Stan and Dipper were supposed to appear from. There was no sound at all . . . .

* * *

Dipper trembled. So many screams or cries for help, and so many familiar voices. The smell of blood was thick and heavy in the air. The only "natural" light came from the candle before them, but even that was starting to burn low; the other tiny islands surrounding them now were lit strangely, and ominously. Grunkle Stan was half-crushing him, chest heaving with sobs. . . . .and though he was trying to hold in the sound, they came out half-strangled.

For Stanford, this was his worst nightmare, starting a few weeks into summer. Or at least, he'd had it before, but with two young additions added in. So far, the old man had dreamt it once.

Always trapped on a god-forsaken tiny piece of rock, suspended in a sort of pitch-dark abyss, his family and friends dying all around him, and he with no way to stop it, or even move. He'd managed to get into a position that shielded Dipper from the sight, before the paralysis kicked in and rendered him motionless except his eyes.

The only thing that made this worse was that Dipper was forced to endure it, as well. He was currently quivering, pressing his full weight into his great uncles' chest and stomach; the last shrill scream had been his, somewhere out there in the inky darkness, another tiny island appearing with the childs limp form.

The worst part of the nightmare was yet to come. The ghostly forms of those around them rose up from the islands, still bearing permanent injuries -the ones that caused their deaths- and surrounded him, screaming in anger and hate-filled vengeance. They enclosed in on him, and Stanford was suddenly able to move, curling around Dipper protectively, tears running down his face and sobs shaking his form.

"I-I'm _s-s-sorry_. . . I-I tr-tr-tried . . . t-to s-s-s-save y-you all. . . .oh, g- _god_ . . ." he whispered out in horror, regret, and longing. He flinched when he felt one grab his shoulder. Everything suddenly went silent, but Ford was still locked in the moment, surrounded by haunts of his past and worries of his future. Usually, this was a sleeping thing; he would wake up, panting and sobbing, back home.

It took him a moment to realize that everything was still. And another to realize that the hand on his shoulder was Dippers. He slowly sat up, realizing that he must've been half-crushing the kid throughout most of that. Dipper wasn't about to let go, however. He was latched on tight to his Grunkles coat.

Stan slowly returned it, probably the first hug he had ever given the youngster. It was several more minutes before something broke the silence. A familiar shout. Both males flinched, then turned to look.

Not fifteen feet behind them was where they came in at, and ten in front of them was the way out. Both stood, Dipper silently taking the burned-out candle. He looked up at Ford, smiling a tiny bit, tears tracks on his face. Grunkle Stan returned it, and gently bumped the kid on the shoulder as they walked silently out.

The others were all there . . .the cavern suddenly brightened considerably. All the torches, previously burning low, lit up brightly with blue fire. They all jumped back as the tunnel entrances behind them were alit and blocked off with blue flames, sealing them over with rock.

All turned at the demonic laughter that rang out. In the brighter light, they could see two things along the far wall.

One was Bill Cipher, staring at them and cackling with glee, twirling his cane. The other was a little more . . . unsettling.

The walls were grey stone, but something black and white seemed to be mounted against the back wall.

There was a vague humanoid shape, and it was hard to tell at this distance . . . . but it looked like he was a ghost bound in inky black chains, a motionless, imprisoned spirit.

As Marci had said.

* * *

 **"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned  
** **Man Behind the Demon  
** **Wishes to See it Burn  
** **But how can you truly tell  
** **If you've barely seen him?**

 **To learn the truth sometimes you must  
Dig deeper and deeper, and throw in some trust  
But isn't that, what you've already done?  
To help your family out, through hardship and fun?**

 **Who is who? Who is right?  
And who will win in this final fight?  
No - allow me to rephrase,  
And guide you through the foggy haze.  
**

 **Many more adventures and trials await  
Even as the sun sets and it gets late  
More weirdness and unexpected turns  
Whether the world survives or burns**

 **A twist in the tale;  
But is that truly new?  
In Gravity Falls, you always arrive with barely a clue  
Yet as you travel, you soon learn  
How best to win and how not to fail."**

 **"Wvvkvi zmw wvvkvi wldm blf tl  
** **Gfttvw yb gsv hgivmtgs lu gsv fmwvigld  
** **Mlgsrmt blf wl droo tvg blf lfg  
** **Hl blf nzb zh dvoo vmqlb zmw mlg klfg**

 **Qfhg pvvk blfi svzw zmw hgzb lm blfi uvvg  
** **Uli gsviv rh hlnvlmv blf hslfow nvvg  
** **Zugvi blf gzpv wldm gsv girzmtfozi lmv  
** **Gsvm blf xzm ivozc drgs hlnv mvd uznrob ufm."**


	17. , , ,has the Right to Live, , ,

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **This chapter, we learn a little more about the Mindcave and how the tunnels work a little more, among other things. There's a bit of a fight scene, not to much violence. There's gonna be more info thrown around here and there the next few chapters, then requests will be taken back up, if anyone sends anymore.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 17:** . . .has the Right to Live. . .

* * *

Bill fixed them with a sort of amused look, chuckling again. He held his staff with one hand, spreading both arms wide open. "Welcome to the Mindcave, kids and toddlers! One of the few places in the world where physical reality meets physiological reality; and it's the strongest here, too." he added, the sly grin clear in his voice.

He nearly winced when he saw the absolutely furious look that Stanley was giving him. In all honesty, Stancio had expected that. He knew the man would figure out if he wasn't told . . . and while he could see everything that happened in those tunnels, he couldn't manipulate anything in there; it was, pre-programmed, you could say. He could only watch.

That handyman Soos, though . . . he had been pretty spot-on. All it really did was take their memories and replayed them; except for Stanford, that is. He'd gotten Fear, and therefore it replayed a nightmare that reflected his fears and terrified him, not needing to recreate anything. Plus, it had interpreted Dippers fears as being very similar, and, satisfied with the results, it had decided not to force the two to endure more than they had.

All seven of them were staring at him, determined. A few -Fiddleford, Dipper, and Stanford- were still very shaky, but determined none-the-less.

"What do you want with us, Cipher?" Fiddleford, surprisingly, spoke first, voice strong.

"Bill" rolled his one eye. Stancio was weakening; the real Bill was downright furious with him, struggling to take back control. Stancio knew that, whatever he did using Bills powers would drain him of more energy; he was fine with that, as long as he could find a way to get them to defeat Bill and made sure that they got out alive, and possibly saved his sister, he didn't care what happened to him.

He just had to hold tight until he could achieve these goals.

"What do you think?" he questioned, rolling his one eye. He was struggling to sound and act like Bill, despite the demon screaming at him in the background. not that they could here it; Bill was literally a prisoner of his own mind right now, but in desperation and stubbornness, Stancio had taken over.

"I-I dunno, revenge, I guess?" Dipper tried, trying to hide how terrified he had been.

Snapping his fingers, he shrugged. "Sounds about right, Pine Tree. But then again -oh, where are my manors? Is this any way to treat guests?" he snapped his fingers again, a table with room for eight people with eight chairs appearing in the middle of the large space.

He floated down and settled in one of the chairs. "Come on, be some good sports and take a suit! Conjure up any type of food you want! you can manipulate just about anything in here! Just don't expect to be full when you leave! What happens in here, stays in here, so don't get your hopes up too high." he warned, waving a hand in front of him and getting blueberry muffin.

None of them moved, though he caught Wendy and Stanley sharing looks. They'd already figured out a part of the Mindcave in the Unknown tunnel, and he had just given away the last couple of hints that would help them put it all together. Bill was going to make him suffer for this, he knew. He still didn't care. This was for the world, his family members, his sister . . .he didn't care what happened to him anymore after this.

They glanced at eachother, shifting closer to the others. A whisper was passed along, from person to person. Stanley stepped forward first, hesitantly, but boldly taking a seat at the far end of the table from "Bill".

"So, Bill, long time no see." he says coldly, but with a fake layer of enthusiasm. A distraction, he could tell. He can sense the other whispering among themselves, but keeps his eye on Lee.

"Yeah it has been." he agrees, tossing the muffin in his hand.

Stanley regards him a long moment, then summons his own food. Scrambled eggs and toast and orange juice. He makes as if to start eating, taking a sip of . . .probably coffee, a mug appearing in his hand at will.

"So, why bother with revenge?" Stanley asked suddenly. "Whats the point? It only leads to more suffering, and it won't make you feel any better. 'When one holds a grudge, it doesn't poison the on you hate; it only poisons the holder'." he quotes, waving his hand conversationally.

While Stanley distracts Bill, Wendy has already quickly spread the fact that they can control this place, and that they can use it's power against the demon. There is the obvious question of _why_ Bill would even share info such as this. Unless, of course, you can't really control anything to that degree, or in the way Bill implies. Stanley, however, just signaled for them that it was an all-go from the table.

They quickly split up, Mabel, Ford, and Soos going one way along the wall, and Wendy, Fidds, and Dipper the other. The plan is to try and tag-team in and out, between defending and seeing what is along the back wall.

Both parties reach it at more or less the same time. Ford and Soos stand lookout, using their bodies to shield the others from any of Bills' possible attacks, while Wendy, Fiddles, Dipper, and Mabel start looking over what's there.

It's a man. Not a ghost, but a man, locked up in inky black chains, that easily stand out against his pale skin. He's an albino; nothing supernatural changed him to his current appearance. It's genetic; he's been like that since birth.

He was lean and willowy and a little tall, with milk-white skin, pale white-blond hair that reach to just beyond his ears. He wore a simple pair of deer hide trousers and a grey, long-sleeved wool shirt covered by a beaver-skin vest. A pair of sturdy boots, made of some other type of animal hide, covers his feet. The clothes resembled those seen on Pioneer Day, but with a certain air of authenticity.

His arms were shackled and chained above his head by the wrists, so high he was left with his feet dangling inches above the ground. Despite this fact, more shackles were attached to his ankles, the chains going for about two or so feet before attaching into the floor. A single chain wraps around his gut, and seems to attach into the stone wall behind him. A metal collar was hooked around his neck, the chain latching into the wall behind him.

All of it was inky black, and if you looked closely, they were engraved with strange runes and symbols, some flashing and glowing, though it could've been a trick of the ethereal blue torchlight.

Fiddleford gently took the mans wrist, feeling for a pulse. Unable to get an accurate feel because of the shackles, he tried his neck. Wendy, meanwhile, tried to see if there was anyway to remove the varies chains.

Dipper felt chills go down his spine. "You guys remember that last rhyme thing we got from Fiddlefords laptop?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yeah? What about it?" Fidds muttered, reaching up to try the mans neck instead, despite the metal collar.

"Didn't it say something about locks and keys?" Ford mumbled, loud enough for them to hear, but hopefully quiet enough so Bill wouldn't.

"Um, it mentioned chains?" Soos tried, swapping out with Wendy, who stared fiercely at Bill, while Soos examined some of the chains for potential weaknesses.

"Didn't it mention something about a tired prisoner? And strong chains or something?" Mabel, giving the chain on the left leg a mighty tug, to no effect.

"I think it . . .did. . ." Fidds started to reply, but dropped off, hands falling to his sides sadly. "He's. . . he's dead."

He gestured helplessly at the man when the other glanced at him in surprise. "I . . .I don't know." he wrung his beard nervously. "I couldn't quite see him breathing, so I was checking for a pulse. I . . .I couldn't find one."

Mabel frowned, reaching up on her tiptoes to lightly feel the mans cheek. "But he's warm . . . he feels _alive_." she murmured, confused as the others.

At that moment, a shout filled the air. They all whipped around to see Bill turning bright red, his eye furious as his shouts, which quickly turned from Stanley, who was already scuttling away so he could try to circle around to the others, to the group surrounding the pioneer albino.

Well, then about two or three things happened at once. One being, obviously, Bill going from calm and sarcastic, to being a screaming rage machine bent on possible destruction.

Next, the chained man suddenly started breathing, if raggedly, and managed to lift his head a little, opening pale-green eyes to see what was going on.

Three, Stanley managed to reach the group, sprinting heedlessly past the triangular demon.

Bill paid him no mind. His eye was narrowed and focused on the albino, who met his gaze with terror. The man choked out some sounds that could've been words, but nothing coherent.

The whole group were thrown aside at a wave of Bills hand, the demon directing the blunt force of his anger on the chained man. Bill shouted and screamed, but made no move to physically harm him.

 **"WHAT THE _HECK_ WHY DID YOU FREAKING TELL THEM _EVERY_ SECRET OF THIS PLACE!? WERE YOU NOT _PUNISHED_ ENOUGH THE FIRST TIME, STANCIO?! IS _THAT_ IT?! DO YOU _WANT_ ME TO  DESTROY YOU I -"** Bill froze, and a new sound filled the air.

Laughter. Coming from the albino; a ghost of a grin on his face and laughter tumbling out of him. True laughter, not forced, and it didn't sound nervous, either.

"-why the heck are you chuckling?" Bill asked, slowly fading from red to his signature yellow. He was clearly confused.

Stancio, as it seemed was his name, chuckled again before quieting, but the grin didn't leave him. He looked up at Bills confused and annoyed expression; then burst into laughter again, the kind that brings tears to your eyes.

Seeing the chance, the other quickly regrouped and plotted a quick course of action. Four of them would attack Bill, and the other three would try and get the chains of the Stancio guy. From there, they'd either try to escape or take Bill out once and for all.

Soos, Fidds, and Lee snuck to the side, conjuring up some boulders to hide behind, while Mabel, Dipper, Wendy, and Ford got ready to fight. As was apparent from the battle between Soos, Dipper, and Mabel in the Mindscape, many thing could be used against Bill to distract him, **HURT** him, even, which they planned to use to their full advantage.

They all conjured and readied a variety of weapons, and strategically placed themselves around the Bill before striking. Dipper had an enchanted crossbow. When they hit, a bunch of ice spread from anyway between six inches to a foot from the point of impact, besides slowing the target down, even when the ice left.

Wendy had a twin pair of long knives, which she could dart in and slash and attack. Grunkle Stan had a pair of brash knuckles, but with spikes on on the end, fit for bashing the stupid triangles face in.

Mabel, meanwhile, did distractions, creating Xyler and Craz to play synthesized music, hurting the demon whilst distracting him. All together, they were doing pretty good, holding their own. Bill had little time to think, let alone attack, forced to the defensive, a small shield appearing on one arm. However, while he would be focused on one attacker in front, another would come and get him from behind.

Fidds, Soos, and Lee were making some progress with the chains. Stancio didn't seem to be doing so good, groaning in pain, sagging in his binds. Lee had pulled out the first journal, paging through it until he found what he was looking for; the info on enchanted objects.

* * *

 **So many things yet to be  
Explained and sorted beneath the trees  
Within a cavern, out of sight  
For several decades, it will be a fright**

 **To learn all there is to be known  
About some people and facts thus shown  
Family long forgotten, remember once more  
And all the more reasons for comfort.**

 **For though once the beast is caught  
And subdued in his cage  
Does that really mean you one the game?  
Who is to know what you shan't do; and what you ought?**

 **All you should remember,  
And I'll hope you'll take away  
A special bit of knowledge today  
No matter what happens, family sticks together.**

 **"R olhg blf, xlfowm'g urmw blf.  
** **Gl srn, rg dzh zoo z tznv.  
** **R hvzixsvw zmw hvzixsvw yfg mvevi  
** **Xlfow R hvv blfi olevob uzxv ztzrm.**

 **Z wzip, wzip wvzo drgs z wzip wzip "nzm",  
** **R dzhm'g gsrmprmt hgizrtsg, R dzh wvhkvizgv, zmw. . .  
** **Zmw lmob zugvidziwh wrw R ivzorav nb nrhgzpv  
** **Hlnvgrnvh rg'h yvggvi gl dvrts gsv irhph ztzrmhg gsv tzrm."**

 **-Hgzmxrl Zovczmwvi V.**


	18. Trials Faced, Secrets Learned , , ,

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **Here we are, a grand finale! I think. Still not sure. All I know is there'll be way more to come after this. Both fun and entertaining as it will be tragic and heart wrenching.**

 **I'd like to thank the person who told me to slow down with my chapters, so they'll be neater and have less mistakes. Thanks! I'll work on editing the bugs out of the chapters closer to the end of this story. :-)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18:** Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .

* * *

The chains were clearly enchanted. Besides the multiple and varying shapes and repeating symbols carved into the inky black metal, Soos had tried to use some tools he had on him to break apart the shackles hinges; but it had sparked with blue energy and singed his hand. While Fiddleford used the first aid kit Lee had brought along(after pointing out that conjuring bandages from the Mindcave wouldn't work when they left)

Lee pored quickly over his notes before finding what he was looking for. "Okay, we need to say this spell to un-enchant the chains." he showed the other two males, who had stood.

" _Liberum augurium super obiectum to make it normalis sim, transite per vitam excedendo!_ " they shouted together. The chains sparked and flashed brightly, then dulled down, the inky black seeming to wash and drip away until it was all dull, rusty, weak metal.

Stancio moaned quietly, eyes opening a moment, glazed over with pain. Fidds and Lee tackled the chains with fresh enthusiasm, while Soos carefully supported the man, so he wouldn't topple over or have to take the sudden strain once the chains were gone. Who _knew_ how long he'd been trapped in here?

The battle suddenly took a turn for the better. Bill seemed to be weakening, his small shield disappearing. He screamed in pain at every blow that was rained down upon, barely able to float, battered around like almost like a ball. The small attack party didn't let up, either. If they stopped, he might recover and then he would have a chance to retaliate, and he knew the powers of the Mindscape better than them; right?

"Nearly there, nearly th-I got it!" Lee exclaimed in triumph, carefully easing the metal collar off, while Fiddles removed the shackles around his ankles. Upon closer inspection, the chain wrapped around his stomach was also attached to the collar and the shackles still attached to his wrists. Once all the chains were gone and off Stancio, Soos carefully held him in his arms bridal-style.

Then, something quite strange and unexpected happened. He reached out a hand and loosely gripped one of the rusty chains hanging from the wall, face screwed up in pain and concentration. He mumbled something under his breath, sounding almost like a chant, or spell, a few Latin words slipping out here and there. And then, he . . . shrank, clothes and all, and . . . and _he turned into a child_. No older than twelve, by the looks of it.

The kid cracked open his eyes, then let them slide shut with a pained moan, falling limp. His wrists were rubbed raw and bleeding, his neck was badly bruised, and deep circles under his eyes suggested he was sleep deprived. Other than that, he looked alright. Fiddles and Lee quickly swabbed some disinfectant on his wrists and wrapped them up with some bandages.

By now, Bill had seemed to have given up. His color was rapidly fading from glowing yellow to faded blue, and he seemed honestly terrified. A single tunnel behind where the man-turned-kid had hung suddenly opened up in a burst of blue flames, as large as a garage. Moonlight was clearly visible at the far end, as well as some pine trees and bushes.

While Fidds hurriedly put the first aid kit back in his pack, Lee turned to the others. "Let's get out of here!" he shouted, voice carrying in the cave, which was quickly darkening, the torches going out, one by one.

Quickly taking heed to his words, they all retreated, although Mabel didn't stop the assault of synthesized music, and Dipper fired one last freezing arrow to slow the floating dorito down, should his weakness still be a trick.

They all fled down the tunnel, Fiddles pulling the lantern from his pack, where they'd hidden it previously. As they went, the conjured items disappeared, and the music suddenly went silent. Finally reaching the entrance, they all swirled around as a loud rumbling shook the earth, knocking them off their feet. The large tunnel entrance was ringed by blue-black fire; they encroached in on the center, rock following behind it.

In moments, it was just a small hill with flat rock face on it. Nothing out of the ordinary about it, from just looking at it.

Wendy, Dipper, Mabel, and Ford all glanced over at Lee, Soos, and Fidds, surprised when they saw the kid.

"Hey, what happened to him?" Wendy demanded, carefully pulling him off of Soos's stomach as the fat baby-man sat up slowly, rubbing his head.

"Not sure. He went from adult to kid after we freed him." Fidds interjected, even as Lee opened his mouth to speak. "Maybe he was always a kid, and Bills demon magic changed him into an adult to fit the cuffs."

Mabel frowned, crawling over to him. She lightly poked his cheek. "Boop."

Dipper frowned. "Mabel, stop." he told her, even though he crawled over, as well, to take a look at the kid in the light of the lantern.

It was night out; the stars were overhead, and a sliver of moon. The adventure, while not taking more than three or four hours, five at most, the Mindcave and adjourning tunnels messed with reality in more ways than one; once they enter, time was either sped up or slowed down as it so chose. It was like a living creature all it's own, in that respect, though it had it's own plans and goals; it neither hurt nor helped anyone intentionally.

"Where are we?" Fidds asked, peering around in the darkness, squinting into the trees nervously.

"No idea; we should stay put until morning, so we won't get anymore lost than we currently are." Soos suggested sensibly.

"I'll start a fire." Ford grunted, getting up to clear a space. A small, merry fire was soon blazing within a circle of stones, and everyone huddled around it gratefully.

Lee felt around in his coat pockets, finally pulling out the water bottle. He gestured to the albino kid. "We should try and get him up, maybe get some water into him." he suggested quietly.

Wendy continued to carefully cradle the child, who almost looked to be made of fine china in the firelight and weak moonlight. Dipper and Mabel leaned against Soos, nodding off only to jerk awake again. Ford leaned against a tree, keeping a lookout on the surrounding area, silently setting himself to watch duty, leaving Fidds, Wendy, and Lee to try and rouse the kid.

Stancio was a pretty heavy sleeper, as they soon found. Nothing they tried seemed to work. Wendy had the kid's head and shoulders in her lap, frowning down at the peaceful face, reading the underlying pain from the way his eyebrows pulled together, a light pout on his lips.

She gestured for the water bottle. "I have an idea; comes from living with lumberjacks." she explained. Gently lifting his head up, Wendy poured a tiny bit of water into the kids mouth. He didn't react for a long minute, then coughed and sputtered, eyes blinking open.

He shifted in the older girls grasp, but the motions were weak. "Hey now, hey now, easy there." she soothed softly, setting the bottle down before using both hands to support the kid, slowly helping him sit up right, though he leaned heavily against her.

He coughed again, weakly hugging himself, looking around dazedly. "Wh-where . . ?" he questioned, already slumping down in pure exhaustion.

Lee lightly touched his hand, getting the kid to look at him. "You can sleep soon." he promised. "But can you first tell us your name?"

The kid squinted, mumbling something under his breath. "I . . .I think . . .Stance-EE-oh. . . Ever. . . green . . ?" he replied quietly, voice heavy with exhaustion.

Wendy held Stancio up when he collapsed against her, to tired to stay upright or even try to. "Whoa, hang on kid!" she told him. "Can you drink a little water before passing out?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her tone.

"N-no . . ." he answered, confused and weak, eyes slipping shut again. He would not be roused again, so they decided to let him lie.

Soos, Mabel, and Dipper were already asleep. Lee took the kid off of Wendy and cradled him close, watching the fire. Wendy leaned against a tree, taking a seat. She, too, was soon asleep.

Fidds tried to stay awake, but finally mumbled out, "Wake me up when it's my turn to keep watch . . ." before curling up on the ground like a cat, soon snoring away.

Lee had taken off his coat and spread it over the kid in his lap, covering them in a large, heavy blanket, leaning back against a large, mossy boulder.

Soon, it was only the two brothers that were awake. Ford glanced over at his twin, who was vigilantly watching either Stancio or the fire. "Long day." he voiced.

Lee glanced up at him, surprised, but smiled. "Yeah . . ." was all he said, in a way that resembled contentment. Not quite, but close.

". . . what are we going to do with him?" Ford asked, glancing at the pale child.

Lee shrugged, raising a hand to stifle a yawn. "Don't know. Besides Fidds theory that he was a kid previously and aged in there," he nodded towards the closed-off cave. "Or he's that friend of Mae's, I mean, Marci's, well . . . the kids from the late 1800's; he doesn't have a home to go to after this."

Ford gave his brother a long, hard stare. "Are you suggesting we take him in?" he asked.

Lee shrugged. "Logically, given the circumstances; yes." he replied, not missing a beat.

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But I already have you to look after, and possibly Fiddlesticks, with the way things are headed." he said in fake exasperation.

Lee shot his twin a sleepy grin. "G'night. Wake me up if you want me to take a shift, or tell Fidds I permit it."

Ford grunted noncommittally. Soon, Lee was slumped against the tree, asleep, the rescued child wrapped protectively in his arms.

* * *

I look around, confused. I'm out in the forest, my cabin home before me. . . but it seems . . .warped, somehow. Bigger, for one thing, with a few trees going off the top and a waterfall splashing merrily down the side of it. I walk closer, cautiously. Something weird is going on here . . .

I walk through the door frame at the side; the door is completely gone; hinges, everything. As I go, I can see dozens upon dozens of doors; they stretch out forever, along endless hallways.

I open one door, the sign over the top saying "Pride" I look to see . . . myself, carefully skinning a squirrel, my white-skinned hands stained with blood, but pale green eyes wide with excitement, a grin spread across my features. I close the door with a frown.

"What is this place?" I mutter, walking further along. Something is wrong; a lot of the doors are hanging from their hinges, or have large claw marks tearing over them, stretching across the very door-frames, as well.

I don't understand; upon trying to open these doors, they stick, and the few I can open are horribly warped inside; I can see myself, clearly enough, and other figures too, occasionally, but there is a reoccurring figure who I can never get a clear glimpse of, nor their voice.

I hear a name called, from one of the open doors, _"Stancio Alexander Evergreen, get your behind in here this minute, young man!"_ shouts a stern, yet caring female voice.

I wander to the door, peering in. Me, a younger me, maybe about seven years old, looks up a sandy-blond haired, grey eyed women.

 _"What have I told you about running about in the woods? It could be dangerous out there alone."_ she scolds, but there is a happy glint in her eyes, and she's trying to hide a grin.

 _"Mama, I wasn't alone. Marci was with me."_ the younger boy protested. _"She's just round the corner of the house now, waiting for me!"_ he finished, pleading and pouting cutely. _"Could we please go play explorers again? I promise we won't leave the house. Please?"_ he asks, giving puppy-dog eyes.

"Marci," I mumble, backing away from the door and closing it. "Marci . . .why does that sound familiar?" I glance around, the bits and pieces coming back. This is my house; or, at least, some weird version of it.

And Marci . . .wasn't she my . . .my sister? My twin? My memories are all muddled. . . .glancing around myself, I feel something click inside. "These are my memories . . .am I in my own personal dreamscape?" I question, walking deeper inside.

Going deeper and deeper, I find myself lost. I keep searching for a way out, opening random doors as I go, hoping one of them will be a portal out of here or something.

One of the doors opens up to a bedroom . . . my old bedroom. It doesn't really look like a memory . . .I step inside, looking around. I reach out and carefully pick up a scrap of paper from a roughly-made wooden table. It certainly feels real. Just as I turned to survey my old bed, a loud bang makes me jump. I spin around, a growing dread in my gut as I race towards the closed door.

I shove it, twisting the handle, but it won't budge; I'm trapped. I scream, pounding my fists on the door. "HELP!? Is there anyone out there?! I'm trapped!?" I turn around, leaning my back against the door, burying my face in my hands, sliding down it with a sob.

I can barely remember my own past, I was imprisoned by someone, and now I'm trapped inside my own mind without any means of escape. How does one even enter another mind?! It's hopeless!? Tears roll down my cheeks, sobs shaking my shoulders. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself in a hug, crying out my pain and sorrow.

Alone.

* * *

 **I've heard people often say  
Both in the past, and the present day  
That one good turn, deserves another,  
Good turn; or, so they all say.  
**

 **But sometimes, the good is followed close behind  
The bad, and so, nothing feels alright.  
But don't give up hope; fight against the fears  
The swirl in your mind like smoke,  
And break you down to tears.**

 **Even when all seems lost, just look around  
Even when your scared, listen for the melody  
Of an old song, made by an old, buddy.  
Soon, you'll be. . .safe, and sound.**

 **"R mvevi gslftsg R dlfow yv  
** **Gizkkvw ztzrmhg, z uzoovm givv.  
** **Uli zh nb hlfo wlvh uzwv zdzb  
** **R xzm hgroo ivxzoo gsv wzb. . .**

 **. . .Gszg R olhg nb yilgsvi wvzi,  
** **Zmw ru R xlfow, R'w hsvw nzmb z gvzi.  
** **R'ev girvw nb yvhg; zmw R gsrmp rg'h, yvvm vmlfts.  
** **Mld R xzm ezmrhs szkkrob, zmw drgs ml mvtzgrev hgfuu."**

 **-N. Zevib Vevitivvm**


	19. , , ,and who should truly DIE?

"Trials Faced, Secrets Learned . . .Man Behind the Demon . . . Wishes to See it Burn . . .Which is Which? . . . Can you Decide? Who . . . has the Right to Live. . . and who should truly _DIE_?"

 **I thought it would be appropriate to publish this on the big day; July thirteenth, twenty-fifteen, the day Gravity Falls "A Tale of Two Stans", aired.**

* * *

 **Chapter 19:** . . . and who should truly DIE?

* * *

Not to long after they went home, Mabel had managed to enlist the help of Wendy for a secret project. Then, after gathering a few small supplies, they had gone into the woods.

Wendy quickly realized what Mabel's goal was. Upon reaching the old myrtle tree, however, there was a bit of a shock. The tree had fallen recently; the smell of moist earth filled the air easily, the messy snarled appearance of scraggly roots and dirt hanging in the air to their left. Searching around on the ground for the journal, Mabel found shards of black pottery and ink staining the ground like blood under the very edge of the tree, the feather soaked in the stuff.

They call out quietly. "Marci? Where are you?" Mabel called.

"Uh, Mabel?" Wendy calls over, pointing to something leaning haphazardly against the tree among the branches. It's Marci's journal. Marci herself is hunched over, seemingly in pain.

"Uh, dangit, what was the spell?" Wendy muttered, trying to think. Marci was barely visible, her whole form flickering in and out of sight. She barely lifted her head in acknowledgment of their presence, but one thing was clear; she wasn't going to last much longer.

"HERE! I got it!" Mabel answered, pulling grandpa Lee's notepad from a sweater pocket, flipping through the pages until she found it.

 **"** _Spiritus do in mundi_  
 _Carnis, sanguinis cordis pluma._  
 _Industriae vestrae animae tuae_  
 _Ad ultimum finem._

 _Ad resurgent vivificandi_  
 _Etiam librae incumbit aciem cultri_  
 _Orate , atque ita nos_  
 _Debeo, vicissim, favorem adhuc._ **"**

The two girls read off together. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then, there was a bright flash of blue, Mabel and Wendy got knocked off their feet, and there was a gasp followed by the sound of panting. Managing to sit up again, they blinked the brightness from their eyes.

Before them, Marci was human; again.

She lay half-leaned against the trees branches, a pair of small six-fingered hands clutching the journal, the cover shining with silver and other metals. The girl was a crumpled-over mess, half-hidden behind leaves in a prison of sticks and twigs and little green flags. She was clearly breathing, but she wasn't in to good a shape, either.

Several bruises covered her visible skin, the brown dress she wore was torn in several places. There were bite marks on her arms and claw marks on her side, most scabbed over, very few dripping blood. Her hair was tangled, unkempt, and messy, a sandy-dirty blond curtain covering half of her form like a blanket, disrupted every few seconds as she panted, almost gasping for air, clearly in pain, but alive.

"Marci! can you hear us?" Wendy shouted, even as she started to tear away at the branches surrounding the girl, having to use her hatchet from time to time, even as Mabel started to squirm her way through.

The girl inside gripped the journal tighter, a small hiss of pain escaping her as she looked up; revealing a bloody cut on her heck, straight and horizontal and still weeping blood. Mabel and Wendy choked out startled cries, but Marci seemed hardly perturbed by it, managing to rip a length of fabric from the hem of her already-torn dress and wrapping it one-handedly around the wound.

She opened her grey eyes, looking from one to another; they were glazed over with pain, but held a grim determination; she would not fall again, NEVER again. Before either could reach her, however, her eyes fell shut, her head dropped to her chest, and the tight grip on her journal loosened; the leather-bound book, now looking almost as good as new, slipping from her grasp.

* * *

Pain. It's all I could feel. Everything hurt, and I just wanted to either fall asleep forever or open my eyes and figure out what was going on. I felt like I was on fire. At first it was only skin deep, then it spread inside of me, burning fiercely and hotly; over my bones and muscles, touching lastly upon my heart, which beat rapidly.

As the pain slowly ebbed away, I was aware of a light breeze caressing my skin, blowing through my hair. I could feel the earth I sat upon, and several branches holding me up and digging into my back and arms. In my hands I could feel the familiar supple, dark leather of my journal. I clutched it tightly, beginning to pant as other sensations came to me.

Gouges from bites and scratches from tiny claws were among the first things I took notice of. I only had about three, four, maybe five bites total on me, some scratches here and there, maybe some bruises. The one thing that really hurt was my throat, just a little above the collarbone. A shallow, horizontal line seemed to burn into my neck, hurting and bleeding.

I could hear voices; I ignored them, gripping my book to try and anchor myself, the pain and exhaustion I felt weighing me down. I looked up, hissing in pain, blinking to clear my vision before spotting a brown haired and brown eyed girl, roughly my age, squeezing through branches, coming towards me. An older redhead with bright green eyes; clear emerald, not pale jade, like my brothers.

She was using a hatchet to chop away branches, breaking into the small fort I was in . . . they yelped, startled, at my movement, but I already decided; they could be threats, and I had to get out of here and find Cio. That said, I ripped a strip of fabric from my dress and wrapped it around the wound on my neck. It obviously wasn't deep enough to kill immediately, but I'd be danged if I died of blood loss.

I opened my eyes once more, meeting each of their gazes for a moment. I was about to try and get up, but exhaustion swept over me; I couldn't fight it, head dropping back onto my chest, my whole body falling limp, and everything washed away into darkness . . . .

I blinked open my eyes to see the bright blue of the sky, a few white clouds moving across it and several tree branches. I sat up and looked around, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. It was about mid afternoon; I must've fallen asleep while looking for one of those gnome things. What a weird dream, though. Me, a ghost? Yeah right.

I glanced around and spotted my journal to my right. I picked it up, glancing at the silver hand on the cover, laying my own left hand over it. Six fingers on each of my hands, and six on the hand on the journal. I opened it up, glancing over the various things on the first page, mostly where me and some others had signed our names and reasons for being apart of the 'Mystery Quartet'.

I paged through the leather bound book, scanning over each of the neatly written spells and charms, and instructions for certain magical things, like opening a portal from one part of the world to another, or even to other worlds outside our own; just one example, but I'm neither a powerful another magic-dabbler nor do I even have a spell for such a thing.

"Look out!" shouts a voice, and I look up in time to see a large ball of moss and twigs flying towards me; I twist aside, but it catches in my long, sandy-dirty blond hair, bursting apart and clinging, little decorations and nuisances, to comb out later. I look up and spot three familiar people.

One has skin as white as milk, with pale green jade eyes, white-blond hair, wearing deer-hide trousers, long-sleeved grey wool shirt, a pair of sturdy boots made from moose hide, and carrying an amused look about him.

The second, a girl a little taller than him with short, curly brown-black hair, bright blue eyes, wearing a deep green cotton dress, a pretty white-blue stone hanging around her neck by a thong, a pair of pretty beaded moccasins, and laughing her head off.

The third is a boy with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a little taller than the other two and me, wearing simple work trousers with a dark green shirt and little red "sock cap", as he calls the long, floppy, sock-like knitted red hat on his head, and a pair of deer-hide boots. He looked simply mortified, mouth hanging open and another large ball of moss-and-twigs in his other hand.

"Stancio, Vanessa, Jeffrey!" I call out, standing and racing towards them. My simple pale brown-cotton dress flares behind me, with my long hair spreading out like a huge banner as I sprint towards them. I tuck away my journal into the well-worn and well-loved beaver skin vest I wear over my dress ass I go. My grey eyes meet Jeffrey's hazel; he still seems uncomfortable, but no longer horrified.

"Sis!" Stancio shouts, excited and bouncing up and down. I grab one of his outstretched arms and drag him closer, wrapping him in a hug before parting, glancing at the others.

"What took you so long?" I joke, grinning wide.

"Oh, nothing much, except Jeff over here wanted to play a game of 'moss-tag-and-seek'." Vanessa answered dryly, though her utter delight was clear underneath, jabbing her thumb in the brown-haired boys directions.

Jeff blushed bright red, stealing a glance at me, rolling the other moss-and-twig-ball around in his hands. "I-I just thought it'd be fun; you'know, do something simple for once, take a break from monster-hunting and magic-dabbling. Today _IS_ the last day of summer, the Hummer-fairies said so, and we won't be able to play as often anymore until next summer." he replied sheepishly, longing clear in his voice.

"Yeah, and it's our birthday in a week, too!" Stancio grinned wide, elbowing me. "We should take the time to have a little fun; mindless, 'stupid', brilliant fun." he finished.

I smiled, elbowing him back. "You're right, let's go; STUPID THINGS _FOREVER_!?" I shout, as I raise my fists to the sky. The others watch, then follow my example, shouting to the high-heavens with me, fists raised.

" _STUPID THINGS FOREVER_!?" they echo, and then we're off, darting to and fro among the trees, picking partners and creating small forts from leafy branches, fallen logs, and large boulders, gathering moss and twigs and pine-sap to make sticky yet soft projectiles.

Then, it was time to go to _war_.

Me and Vanessa quickly traced our way through bushes and ferns, around trees and carefully avoiding twigs and what few crunchy, dried leaves lay on the ground, a clear sign of the approaching autumn days.

It was easy to find the boys fort; it looked like a messy pile of sticks and mud, leaves dropped carelessly on top and a half-dug moat around the front. From the loud whispering inside, I could tell they were arguing over the tactics they should or should not be using. Moving cautiously around it in a wide circle, me and Vanessa discovered that it was only barricaded on the one side, and the other was open as can be.

However, Vanessa stopped me as I raised one of the moss-balls I carried. I looked at her quizzically, and she held a finger to her lips, cupping a hand to her ear and pointing back to the boys. We snuck a little closer, silent as owls, and crouched behind some bushes about ten-fifteen paces away. However, as I started to raise my ammo once more, she stopped me and cupped a hand over her ear, again pointing to the boys.

I held still and listened with her.

". . .ill don't get why you haven't asked her out, yet." Came my twins voice.

There was a shuffling before Jeffrey answered. "I'm afraid . . ." he replied, sounding embarrassed, but also love-struck.

"Of what? Even if she doesn't to be your future wife, she'll still be your friend; I'm sure of it." Stancio answered confidently. "What's to be afraid of?"

" . . . " there was a long pause, full of contemplation. "You." he finally said.

Stancio made a surprised sound. "Me? Why?"

"You're her brother; I'm afraid you'll beat me up if something goes wrong or I screw up." Jeff answered edgily, no doubt peering around for threats; even in this less-magical part of the forest, closer to town, you never knew what might pop up.

I suddenly realized the full weight of my friends words.

Jeffrey . . .had a crush on me? _Me_? Why? I wasn't like any of the other girls; rough and rowdy and always one to fight, rather than quiet and gentle and subservient to others. It took me a moment to realize that my brother was speaking again.

Stancio sighed. "Jeff, look at me." there was a short pause. "We're best friends, and me and Vanessa and Marci all trust you; and if it all comes down to it when we're older, and she _does_ want to marry you, well, I'll support you both all the way. I get that you've been crushing on her since we met, so it's probably about time you just admitted it and asked her."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." there was a pause, then Jeffrey spoke again, a sly grin clear in his voice. "What about you? When are you going to propose to Vanessa?"

I met my friends eyes; she was blushing; I could tell from her look that I was, too.

"W-what do you mean?" Stancio's flustered voice broke through our thoughts.

"I've seen the looks you shoot her; you're head over heels as I am. . . if not more." Jeffrey replied, a teasing tone to his voice near the end.

Sharing another look with Vanessa, we both lunged out of our leafy hide-out and pelted the unaware boys with all our mossy-sticky-twiggy ammo, while they shouted and shielded their faces, unsuccessfully throwing some of their own pitifully small pile of ammo back at us.

Me and Vanessa still had five between us when the boys surrendered, covered in moss and twigs that clung to them tightly, both sticky with tree sap.

"I lay claim on this fortress and name you two as our prisoners!" Vanessa exclaimed. "Si, what shall we do with them?" she asked me, using my nickname that only the four of us use. So, I used hers.

"Hm," I pretended to think, placing a finger on my chin as I tossed a moss ball up and down in the other six-fingered hand. "Well, Nessa, how about we march them through the woods and into town? Tie 'em by their feet to a tree with their faces soaked in honey, or . . ." I trail off ominously, reveling as both boys shared terrified, anticipating looks.

I caught Stancio's eye, winking; realization spread across his features. "SCUFFLE TIME!?" we both shouted, even as I lunged towards him. He had half-risen when I did, managing to catch my arms with his hands, softening the impact to the ground. He squeaked as my full weight landed on his chest, his back hitting the dirt, but he managed to swing his legs up and knock me in the stomach.

"Oof-!" I got out, but I was already swinging a fist towards his head. He dodged with a laugh, catching it and flipping us over, so he was on top of me, pressing his weight into me and try to hold my wrists and arms to my sides. I squirmed, giggling.

Vanessa and Jeffrey watched with amused smiles as me and Cio tussled and rolled about and play-fought. It went on for several minutes, both our friends cheering before we finally broke apart, scraped up a little from the ground, bruised from rocks or sticks or hitting a little too hard, panting and breathless, but exhilarated.

Most of the other boys -besides Jeff- never wanted to play with Stancio at all, and none of the other girls particularly wanted to do things rough-and-tumble; it's part of what made the two of us such a great team, and such good playmates.

"Come on, we should get going home." Vanessa pointed out, gesturing to the deepening shadows and the setting sun. I stood, helped Cio up, and the four of us started walking home, first towards town. Once the commonly used trail was picked up, me and Stancio waved goodbye to our two friends and trekked onwards, with no path to guide us, towards our little cabin in the woods.

Early the next morning, I got up quietly in our shared room. We practically shared a bed, but I didn't mind. We'd always stuck together, and always would. Nothing would change that. I picked up my dirty dress from the day before, slipped behind the curtain that hung next to the pegs that held our clothes, and quickly changed out of my nightgown and into my dress.

It only had bits of moss and sap clinging to it; it would be fine for another rough-and-tumble sorta day. I hung my nightgown up and donned my beaver-skin vest, tucked my journal inside, and grabbed a bottle of ink and a feather quill. I placed both inside other pockets, hidden inside my vest.

I stepped quietly up to the window, glanced once more Cio, still slumbering, and opened the shutters. I quietly climbed out, dropping to the grass, crouching below the sill. I peeked inside, carefully pulled the shutters closed, then stepped lightly and silently into the woods. I'd agreed to meet some gnomes and Hummerfairies, early in the morning, to go over and perfect some spells and charms I'd gather previously.

As I entered the gnomes territory, there was a shout and an angry scream; something hit the back of my head and all went black.

* * *

 **I am back! I was visiting relatives and then went camping, hence my long delay. Look out for the next chapter! It's coming soon, my friends!**

 **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, and read this story! Each review makes my day, as I hope my chapters make your day!**

 **",","**

 **Everlasting, it has been seen  
** **Verity and deceit here and there  
** **Enjoy the light while it does stay  
** **Right before the darkness closes in**

 **Granted so, I followed you  
** **Rallying up our mighty troops  
** **Easily, it was not to be done  
** **Even as we eagerly fought till there was none  
** **Never are we to be forsaken, for we never gave it up.**

 **~G~R~A~V~I~T~Y~_~F~A~L~L~S~  
**

 **Protect one another, we will.  
** **Initializing our plans together, we build.  
** **Never will we leave someone behind,  
** **Everlasting will be our bonds and binds.  
** **Saving you, my brother; my niece and nephew; my family.**

 **",","**

 **"Veviozhgrmt, lfi ylmw szh svow  
** **Evcvw nb svzig zmw hlfo yvxznv  
** **Vevm zh R ollpvw uli z dzb lfg  
** **Ivzorgb yvtzm gl uizb zmw uzwv zdzb**

 **Tirvermt nrtsgrob, R hvzixsvw uli blf  
** **Irtsg fk fmgro R nzwv z wvzo  
** **Vofhrevob, R dzrgvw zmw dzgxsvw  
** **Vevm zh R nzwv nrhgzpvh zmw fmizevovw nb nrmw  
** **Mvevi xzm R ulitrev nbhvou, uli nb hrhgvi ls hl prmw.**

 **~T~I~Z~E~R~G~B~_~U~Z~O~O~H~**

 **Kviszkh gsv grnv szh gifob xlnv  
** **Rmhgvzw lu fmgifgs zmw orvh zmw uzpvh  
** **Mld dlfow yv yvhg; gslfts rg xlfow dzrg.  
** **Vztviob, sv dzgxsvw, zh rg sfnnvw zmw hkzipvw  
** **Hrovmgob slkrmt uli srh lgsvi szou gl yv zorev zmw dvoo."**


	20. One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt 1

**I just watched "A Tale of Two Stans" earlier today and I am freaking out! I'm rather surprised**

 **Blood, violence, and death in this chapter, fellers and fellahs. Just a quick warning.**

* * *

 **Chapter 20:** One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt. 1

* * *

I felt something poke my cheek. I tried to roll away, groaning. Someone slapped me. I jerk my head up, rubbing my cheek, blinking. I found myself face-to-face with a gnome. He glares at me a moment, then took his little pine-cone spear thing and jabbed at me with it.

"Hey, knock it off!" I snap, grabbing at it. My head and the back of my neck feel cold. The slight breeze easily ruffles my short brown hair. I glance around, quickly spotting my sock cap. Pushing the gnome away with one hand, I reach over and grab it, putting it back on. Suddenly, my hand is in burning and in pain from a set of tiny jaws.

"Yowch! LET GO, YOU LITTLE JERK!?" I shake my hand around, finally punching the twerp off. I rub my right hand; the one I write with. "Great, just PERFECT." I mumble sarcastically under my breath. It hurts to move it much.

I glance over, seeing him knocked out against the base of a tree. I'm in the woods . . .but why? How'd I get here? I was heading home late afternoon . . .something hit my head, and then . . . nothing. It looks to be early morning now, though. Sitting up, I realize that my left ankle is shackled to the tree behind me. The chain is long, but I can't go more than ten feet in any given direction.

I glance over my clothes; trousers, green shirt and boots covered in scraps of moss and sap, as well as a few leaves and dirt from sleeping on the ground. I stand, but as I try to move forward, my right leg twists beneath me, sending me to the ground with a harsh cry.

"Jeffrey?" calls an unmistakable voice.

I whimper quietly, slowly pushing myself back up. "M-Marci?" I call back, crawling in the direction of the voice.

"Jeff! Oh, Ree, do you know where we are? Or what's going on?" she calls again, using my special nickname. So I use hers.

"Not a clue, Si. Where are you?" I'm nearly at the end of my chain.

"Look down!" she calls.

I manage to pull closer by a pace or two, and manage to peep over the edge of a pit. It's only about five feet deep, and four across the top, but Marci is chained by the ankle, with only about three feet worth of chain to move on.

She's relieved to see me. "Ree! Your hand!" she exclaims, worried. I glance at it. It's still bleeding, and it still hurts. I move it out of sight.

"I'm alright; what about you?" I call down.

She's wearing what she wore yesterday; but like me, she has bits of dirt and leaves stuck to the stickier places of sap. "I was heading into gnome territory earlier this morning, around dawn, and something knocked me out. I woke up down here. What about you?"

"I was walking home after saying goodbye to Nessa, and something hit me in the head. A gnome slapped me awake." I grimace a little, scowling when she laughs.

"Sorry," she says, looking up at me as her giggles subside. "How are we going to get out of here, anyway?"

"I don't know . . ." I reply quietly.

For several minutes, we remain silent.

"Do you think Cio and Nessa will notice we're gone, Ree? Do you think they'll find us?" she asks, sounding oddly scared, subdued.

It frightens me, honestly, since I always saw her as the strongest of us all. "I'm sure they'll notice we're gone, but we have to help ourselves, too. Come on, let's figure a way out of these chains." I answer, trying to sound confident for her sake.

She nods after a moment, pulling her leather book out of her vest, paging through it quickly. "I don't have any good spells to unlock or shatter the chains or shackles," she says at last, looking up at me. "But I have a charm that might work; but it'll only be a one-use."

I nod in understanding; only one of us will be able to get loose and get away. "Go, get away!" I tell her in a low whisper. "I twisted my ankle, and you're quicker than a Hummer-fairy anyway; you'll be able to find help faster." I urge her.

She looks about to protest, then nods sullenly. Bending over her shackled ankle, she whispers something that's incoherent to my ears. There's a creak and pop, and then she's standing, reaching up for me. I pull myself forward, literally at the end of my rope, and throw my uninjured left hand down. Her six-fingered hands grip like twin vices, and with a great tug, I have her up with me.

Another small push and tug away from the edge of the pit, we both huff and pant a little from the effort. Spotting my hand, Marci grabs for it. "Oh, Ree . . . I'm sorry . . ." she says softly, as if it were her fault.

"Don't be; just go get help." I nudge her, trying to get her to stand. She ignores me, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand closer, hissing in sympathy.

"Hm, well . . .I can't just . . . leave you defenseless. We're the Mystery Quartet; you never leave anyone behind." she frets.

"Oh, I love you . . ." I whisper quietly.

"What?" she asks, tilting her head in confusion.

I scramble for a different choice of words. "Um, I mean-it's alright. You're not leaving me behind, you're getting Cio and Nessa to help free me. I'll be alright in the meantime." I assure her.

Si seems disappointed for a moment, then nods. Taking out and paging through her journal once more, she stops. Eyes quickly scanning over the text, she took a breath and - rips out the page. I stare, dumbstruck. That journal is one of Marci's most precious possessions. Her ripping out a page is like the sun never setting; it's _unthinkable_.

She hands me the page, and I take it mutely, shocked. "There's a light charm, and a healing spell on the back, just in case . . . as well as an illusion charm on the front, in case you need to slip away quietly." she tells me. I can only stare open-mouthed at her.

She rolls her eyes, blushes suddenly, leans forward - and kisses me. On the lips. It's only for a few seconds, and when she pulls back, her cheeks are flaming red, and I'm shocked for a whole different reason and on a whole new level.

"I love you too, dummy. Don't forget that." she says, standing and laying a hand on my shoulder, smiling encouragingly. Then, cheeks still pink, she darts away through the trees.

I stare after her, then glance down at the page in my hand. Carefully, I fold it up into a tiny little square and put it in my pocket like the most delicate and precious of treasures. As my shock fades, I can't help but grin like an idiot.

She _likes_ me! I thought I had no chance with her, but she _does_ love me, too! Despite the circumstances, this is officially the greatest day of my life.

"Ahem." I turn and blanch to see at least a dozen gnomes, half with knives, and the rest bearing small bows, all notched with arrows and aimed at me. I gulp and wave. "Uh, hi?" I try.

Threatening to cut or shoot me with each step, I grunt as I walk, more like limp, where they're leading me. There's no more chains, at least, but I feel like I'm about to be executed. I'd only ever met one of the younger dwarves, Steve, with Si, Nessa, and Cio. I don't have much experience with any of this supernatural stuff.

Finally, we stop in a clearing, and I can spot a throne carved into a stump, and sitting there is a lady gnome, taller than the other gnomes, but shorter than me. She stands, black hair kept in a tight bun behind her head, wearing clothes fit for a queen, wearing a golden tiara, and brandishing a golden scepter topped with a sharp-looking green stone.

She steps down lightly and circles me. I feel like a wounded mouse being stalked by a cat. I remain still, following her with my eyes. She finally stops in front of me, looking me up and down. Her previously neutral face scowls harshly when she spots my bitten hand.

"Where's the idiot that was sent to wake the king?" she says, voice strangely soft, but dangerous.

A gnome is nudged to the front. He steps up nervously to his queen and bows low. "I-I'm sorry to your majesties, it was an honest mistake, it won't happen again, I swear it." he says, trembling, clearly afraid.

She steps up to him slowly. "I should say you won't." she replies coldly. With one swift jab of her scepter, there's a small, neat little whole in the gray-haired gnomes clothes. His beard is stained with blood as he collapses, dead almost instantly. The other gnomes avert their eyes, but do nothing to help their dying comrade. I immediately feel a mix of disgust and fear at this.

I watch her as she approaches, the end still dripping blood. "Hello there, stranger." she purrs, and I hold back a shudder, feeling chills at her voice. "I don't suppose you've ever wanted to be king before, have you?" she asked.

I take a breath and release, hiding my fears. "Look, you majesty, I'm just a kid, and my parents will be looking for me. If you'll let me go now, I won't tell anyone about your little colony out here living in the woods. In fact, I'll tell others to stay away, saying I saw, er, bear tracks or whatever." I inform her.

She frowns, and points at the scepter at my neck. I freeze as she states, "I'm not one to be trifled with, Jeff. My spies have seen what you and your little friends do. While I may not be sure where the little girl went, I have gnomes on lookout for her; she'll do nicely for my plans."

I stiffen, suddenly fearful for Marci. "Leave my friends out of this, we did nothing to you!" I exclaim, bold despite the arrows now aimed at my back and sides.

"Oh, so you do have some bite?" she says flirtatiously, but I can see through her act now. "Good. Any king needs it, and especially the King of Gnomes. Besides; a powerful Queen needs a powerful Queen to rule beside, don't you think?" she winks at me.

"I'm not exactly a gnome, lady." I snap, unable to hide my agitation with this whole thing any longer. When she goes to point the scepter at me again, I grab it, grasping it below the green stone.

She glares at me, and suddenly my entire body explodes with pain. I jolt away wit ha screech, but can't release the staff. I feel like I'm being crushed and set on fire all at once, every part of me screaming in pain. Suddenly, it goes away, and I slump to the ground with a moan. There's a ringing in my ears, and gasps, and someones chuckling.

I slowly blink my eyes open, seeing the Gnome Queen above me. She's chuckling, eyes glinting with triumph. "At least now our species won't be a problem, now will it?" she asks, a nasty tone underneath her more -fake- joyous one. I can only groan in response, lifting a hand to rub my face where it hit the ground.

Feeling along my jaw, I can feel something fuzzy. I sit up, using both hands to feel my face. It's a beard. I have a beard. _Why the heck do I have a beard_?! I look up, shock still written across my face at the Gnome Queen. She's taller than me. Stumbling to my feet and ignoring my twisted ankle, I look around at all the gnomes. We're all the same height, save the Queen.

I look down at my clothes. It's a pair of overalls over a blue shirt, like the rest of the gnomes. I spot a pointy red cap on the ground. I pick it up, feeling the familiar feel of the knitted, dyed whoolly feeling of it.

"What did you do?!" I demand, standing as tall and defiantly as I can in my new form, facing the Queen with little fear.

She grins wide, revealing sharp teeth. "It's very simple, really. Every two hundred or so years, the magic of the Gnomes needs to be renewed. This scepter," she raises it high. "Contains that power, but only a women gnome, the Queen," here she pauses, glancing at me. "Can wield that power. But with a King by her side, after a special ceremony, the power that has burned and nearly gone out the last two hundred years is renewed, and all are merry once more." she explains.

"I have a life, family, friends; you can't just take that away from me!?" I shout.

With a growl, she grabs me by the collar and lifts me in the air, pointing the sharpened scepter at my chest. "Listen hear, boy." she snarls. "I lost everything two hundred years ago today." she lowers her voice, next words only for me.

"I did away with the current King, who was a grieving fool who lost his wife before. I have no choice but to do this; otherwise my power will die; do you get it? Die. And all the gnomes will suffer, not just me. They'll lose what little magic we have, and they'll be defenseless to any attackers; understand? You're becoming ruler with me whether you want to or not."

Dropping me, she turned her back, walking back to the throne. I sat up, rubbing my head. "You can't make me do anything." I get out, trying to hide how much pain still lingers, in my hand, leg, and throbbing head.

"RELEASE ME, YOU LITTLE TWERPS!? STOP IT, THAT HURTS!?" shouts a voice. A familiar voice. I whirl around to see Marci, now much taller, being dragged along, bound by the wrists and being prodded forward by, what I make out to be two-dozen gnomes. She's covered in scratches and bite marks.

"Aw, here we are now! Tie her to the tree." she nods to a fallen log, and, despite her struggling, they manage to bind her to it, wrists held in front of her and a heavy rope wrapped around her stomach.

"Hey, let her go!" I shout, marching forward.

The Queen stops me, and three more gnomes grab me, one on each shoulder and the other holding down my arms. I'm marched over like the prisoner I am, like we both are, towards Marci.

She glares at all of us, and it hurts when I find it directed at me. I suddenly released, and fall to my knees before more friend, leg unable to hold me up. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and slowly stand. I suddenly find something shoved into my grasp. I open my eyes to see the magic scepter, and hands are forcing me to hold it close to Marci's neck, two more gnomes holding her head up, so her neck is exposed.

I fight against the hold. "Let go of me! I refuse to hurt her!?" I shout, struggling, digging in my heels and pressing back.

Recognition sparks in her eyes. My hazel meet her grey, and I can see how her mind races furiously to try and get us both out of here.

Glancing down at the rope on her stomach, the only one really holding her back, I quickly formulate a plan.

I push back as hard as I can, managing to throw them off for a brief moment. I slash the scepter out, managing to tear through the rope most of the way. Before either of us can move, the Queen screams in rage.

Lunging, she grabs me, forcing me to swing the scepter high; and it catches Marci's throat as she jerks away. She screams in pain, and I feel my whole body go numb as I spot the red line on her neck, simply gushing blood.

Things seem to come in a series of brief flashes.

Marci gets up and runs, clutching her throat as she flees, bleeding, her whole front drenched in blood.

The Queen screams in rage, turning to me with blazing eyes.

She lunges; I lift what I hold in my hands to protect myself.

There's a choked gasp as she stumbles back, holding her stomach.

Blood soaks and drips from the scepters green stone point.

As the ringing in my ears disappears, I realize that she's speaking. "I curse you!?" she whispers, though it sounds like a scream to my sensitive ears. "Within two hundred years, you'll have to find your own queen. If you don't, you'll die. If you do, the old customs will be carried out, and you'll be a human once more. It's your turn to be leader and lose everything."

With a final, choking gasp, she collapses. The scepter in my hands vibrates, glowing, then disappears completely, a small cluster of crystals on a ring appearing in my hands. The other gnomes stare at me, and I realize that I'm in over my head.

For years, I remained tucked away, allowing my only friend among the gnomes prior to becoming one, Steve, to lead the way, acting as my second in command. At night, I'd lay awake, staring at the cieling or the stars, knowing that it was all my fault that she was dead. I'd killed my own best friend . . .

And I can _never_ forgive myself for that.

* * *

Dipper glanced over at the two kids. He had so many questions; they all did. He'd been busy talking with Grandpa Lee and Grunkle Fidds about some of their past adventures before he realized that Mabel and Wendy had disappeared. He pointed this out to the others, but just as they were starting to search the Shack, the two burst in the back door carrying a banged up, unconscious girl.

They'd patched up her injuries and the girls changed her into a pair of Mabel's pj's before settling her on Mabel's bed. The young boy they'd rescued from Bills cave, Stancio, was curled up on Dipper's bed. It was only ten in the morning, after all, and the two were hurt and needed the beds more than they did at the moment. Marci and Stancio were quite the interesting cases, whatever their past had been.

Dipper had retreated upstairs to check on the two and page through the dark-brown leather journal she had alone for awhile.

"Let me go-!" came the angry, half-panicked shout. Dipper looked up, spotting the obvious distress on the girl, Marci's, face. He stepped closer slowly. She was still asleep.

"Step off, you pointy-hatted pieces of horse dung-!?" she shouted again, tossing and turning under the blankets. Dipper hesitated then placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking it.

"Hey, wake up. It's alright." he said aloud.

With a strangled scream of rage, fear, and pain, she bolted upright, punched Dipper's hand away, and scrambled away until her back hit the wall.

Dipper rubbed his hand with a wince. "Woah, chill out, it's alright. Just a nightmare." he tries to sooth.

Marci swept her gaze over him, the wild, hunted look in her eyes slowly fading, leaving a confused, yet reminiscent look on her face. She squinted at him. "Who are you? Where am I?" she demanded. Most of her memories while she was a ghost were blurred, starting to fade away, though a few stood out with startling clarity.

"The names Dipper." he replied. "You're at our great-uncles house in the woods."

She sent him a small glare. "Give me back my journal, you little thief." she snapped, ignoring her injuries in favor of creeping forward, intent on taking it.

"We found it with you out in the woods. You were bleeding and had a cut on your neck! Like, what the heck, man!" Dipper replied, edging away slowly.

Suddenly, the door burst open, Grandpa Lee standing in the doorway, panting and clutching at his side. "What's wrong? I heard a scream?" he demanded, eyes locking onto Marci.

She squinted at him in disbelief. "Lee?" she asks. "Am I still a ghost? Or did you somehow travel back into the past?" she asked, serious and skeptical all at once.

* * *

 **I'm gonna end it here. How ya'll liking my flash to the past stuff? That's going to be happening for a little while longer. Please review!**

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** **Gsv xszmxv szh urmzoob xlnv zg ozhg."**


	21. One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt 2

**Hm, my story is officially an Au, but I don't mind. I'm thinking of calling it the . . .nah, I'll reveal it later. It'd be a bit of a spoiler at this point. :-)**

* * *

 **Chapter 21:** One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt. 2

* * *

I walk down the well-worn path that connects the the high-roofed cabin to town. My curly hair blew about my face from the gentle breeze, my dark green dress flaring out. Frowning, I pause and push my hair out of my face.

"How Marci can run around with such long hair is a mystery." I mutter, continuing on. It's early afternoon; I finished my chores just a little bit ago, so I set out for the Evergreens' house right away.

When I reached the little clearing the cabin stood in, however, I realized that something was wrong. Neither Stancio nor Marci were waiting for me. Jeffrey was usually last to arrive anyway, and I'm sure I'm not early.

As I approached the house, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I gaped. It was Stancio, his pale skin covered in blood as he hugged himself, staggering and sobbing.

I raced over to him, gently grabbing him by the shoulders, pulling him down so he was sitting. "Stancio?! What happened? Where are you hurt?" I demanded.

He sniffled, lowering his arms and holding out a blood-soaked animal skin. "M-marci, she's . . .she's . . ." he started sobbing again, hunching himself over the bloody garment. With a jolt, I realized that it was Marci's beaver-skin vest.

Reaching over, I took my sobbing friend into my arms. Tears were already pooling in my eyes and falling down my cheeks, but I tried to remain steady. For him. "Sh, sh, it's going to be alright." I tried to console him, but I'm not sure if he even heard me.

Before long, his mom came out of the house, hearing the commotion. She panicked at the blood, but wailed in grief, hugging the vest herself when she heard the news.

* * *

Days passed. A funeral was arranged, and Stancio remained holed up in his room, clutching the cleaned vest. People were searching the woods for Jeffrey, who'd disappeared a few days ago.

There were bags under his eyes, from lack of sleep. His cheeks were almost always covered in tear tracks. There was little I could do to cheer him up or make him smile, but I hope he found comfort in my being there, at least. I'm not sure if I was any comfort at all.

I did all I could to coax Stancio out of the house, but he neither wanted to go into the woods or into town. When I finally managed to drag him into town, so he could have some fresh air, I realized why he didn't want to go.

"Hey, loser, where's your dumb six-fingered sister?" one of them taunted. Stancio scowled, hugging the vest tighter, but said nothing.

"What's wrong, snowflake? Are you gonna cry and hug your little dolly?" they laughed and pointed at him. I was getting mad, but quickly became confused when he shoved the vest into my hands.

He marched up to them, head down low. They laughed some more, but just as one was about to punch him, his hand shot out. He easily blocked it and looked up. They all stopped laughing. I couldn't see his face, nor hear what he was saying, but from the look on the bullies faces, they were both mortified and shocked. He turned away, walked back towards me, and we walked away in silence.

There were tears streaming down his face. It's very hard to lose a brother or a sister. I know. It's happened to me before, back in my old home on the east coast of this country. But I also know . . .

. . .how hard it is to lose your double.

I may not be a twin, and the only twins I've known were Marci and Stancio . . . .

But from the way he's been acting . . . .

It's like a part of him died with her . . . .

A very, very important part . . . .

That held his brave spirit . . . .

And his kind, curious, gentle self . . . .

Leaving behind a white shell, carrying around her vest . . . .

With one lost, the other become even more so . . . .

I don't know what to do to bring my friend back.

* * *

The day of the funeral. Ironically and almost sadistically, on their birthday. Everyone could taste that Autumn was near. The leaves were already changing colors, the winds were cooler, and the days gradually growing shorter and shorter.

Everyone in town was there; though, the town only really consisted of nine different families outside of the Evergreen household. Even President Trembly, founder of the town, said a few words for the girl, which were kindly meant and surprisingly not as silly was one would've thought, considering him.

Stancio was the first to speak, with his parents. The coffin, empty, since her body was never found, was lowered into the ground, the gravestone declaring how long she'd lived and her name.

When it was covered in dirt, most everyone turned to leave, but a soft voice cut through. Everyone turned back, surprised to see the white child singing. I knew from hearing others in town that Stancio was considered strange, even unnatural. But from the way he sang now, I knew that it was the words of a grieving brother.

Everyone did.

"~Far and wide we're traveled together  
And we always got through since we stuck together  
I'll never for-get what we've done  
Side by side, we played and leapt and run.

I may not know what 'came of you  
But I will make it seen through  
I will never forget the adventures and trust  
And I'll always remember you, I must. . . .~"

His words dropped off, too quiet to hear, though the voice itself was full of sad longing and several tears, pain, and loss.

I could be wrong, but everyone shed a few tears or a lot at this.

I'm not entirely sure, though.

Tears were already streaming down my cheeks.

* * *

They never did find Jeffrey. There was simply no trace of him. The Mystery Quartet was shattered in what felt like one swift, crushing blow. Fall turned to winter, and winter turned to spring.

Summer came around again, and only then did I get a chance to speak with Stancio again. Something felt . . . off about him, but it could've been because he barely spoke, though that didn't quite feel like the real reason. Marci was usually the one to shout out a good, loud, "Hullo!" while Stancio smiled beside her. He only nodded to my greeting, face solemn, almost devoid of emotion.

We talked a little, about how we'd both been doing. He'd been learning hunting with his dad. I'd been learning sewing and bead work from my mom.

I was glad to see him. Something that had been missing in his eyes when I first said hi had come back. He seemed honestly glad to see me, but there was almost something . . . holding him back. Holding him back from being truly happy. Besides how he acted, something about his appearance seemed a little. . . off. Different.

It wasn't until after he'd left that I realized what it was.

He was wearing Marci's vest.

* * *

Autumn rolled back around. Stancio and Marci's fourteenth birthday was coming up, so I made a cake. It wasn't very big, but I hoped he would like it. I'd made and decorated it with some icing. So I packed it up with a blanket and some food for dinner later in a basket and headed for his cabin. I met him as he was coming towards town, actually.

I showed him the cake with a smile, and he froze. "Why does it say 'Happy 14th, Si and Cio'?" he asks slowly, voice devoid of emotion.

I felt my spirits lower. "I did it to cheer you up," I reply hopefully. "It's her birthday, too, even if she isn't . . . _with us_ , anymore."

His brow furrows, and I look away. Then he starts _laughing_. I look back in surprise. Not very hard, more like snickering, but it's the first time I've heard him laugh in so, so long. Something that had been missing seems to come back; _Stancio's_ back.

"S-sorry for laughing." he sounds better, and happy, as well as thankful. "I . . ." he pauses a moment to snicker again before collecting his thoughts. It's almost like the Quartet was back together again. Almost.

"No one's really mentioned her anymore back home, and I was just . . . I'm just happy someone else is still thinking of her." he smiles at me, a true smile.

I smile back. "There's some bread and cheese in here, too. We could go somewhere for a picnic." I suggest.

He pauses, thinking, then nods and smiles again, offering me his arm. I take it with a smile. We had fun throughout the rest of the afternoon. It was all cake and sunshine throughout the day.

For a first date, well, it's probably too soon to call it the _best_ one.

Even if me and Stancio _did_ kiss.

* * *

I stood solemnly next to him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn't make a sound.

We both just stood there staring at the tombstones. The three of them.

His parents had died not long after he proposed to me, when we were nineteen.

We're twenty-one now, married, and I'm expecting a baby.

I know, in the years past, he'd wait until everyone else left so he could talk to his sister in private, at her gravestone.

He doesn't this time. He walks me home instead, to keep me safe. He's always been a little clingy at the best of times. I understand that he's paranoid that he'll lose me, too, like Jeffrey and Marci when we were kids. I don't mind, I understand his concerns. I'm just as worried about him, though.

While he was alright most of the time, there'd be occasions where I'd catch him talking to himself, or he'd be crying, or simply stare off into space and not realize you were speaking until you tapped him.

But otherwise, everythings been perfect. We live in his parents' old place, we have a little garden, and the furs and hides we cure and sell to the townsfolk bring us more than enough to get by.

It couldn't get any better than this.

* * *

"Mommy, where's daddy?" comes the tiny voice at my side.

I look down at Marleen, my little seven-year-old girl. I look back to the four gravestones. "He's . . . he's here." I hold a hand to my chest, over my heart.

"Did he leave? Where'd he go?" she asks again.

I crouch down to her level and take her hands in mine, looking into her grey eyes. Eyes that reminded me of her aunt, Marci. "He . . .died, sweetie." I tell her, choking back sobs. "He had to leave, to heaven, the good place above. He didn't want to go yet, but he loves you and me very much."

Marleen looks at the gravestones again. Stancio's was right next to Marci's, as had been a private wish he'd once told me.

They had never found his body. Not even an article of clothing, as he had first found Marci's vest. Marleen was only one when he went into the woods to hunt and never . . .never came back.

"Will I ever get to see him again?" she asked.

I nod absently. "One day, I promise." I tell her, before getting a bit serious. "But not now; you have to be really old before you go to heaven, and that'll be for a long time. I know your father went young, but sometimes God decides he needs to bring someone early, but it isn't all the time. Do you understand?" I ask her.

I realize that it's a lot to take in at once, but to my surprise, she nods. "I understand . . . did God decide to bring him sooner so he could be with Aunt Marci?" she asks, pointing towards the two gravestones.

I purse my lips, thinking of how to respond. I'd told her stories of the Mystery Quartet, partially to entertain, partially to try and warn her off from wandering into the woods, but also to keep the memories of my three friends alive.

"Maybe he did, Marleen." I say, gently pulling her closer, until I could wrap my arms around her in a sideways hug, both of us looking at the tiny bundles of flowers that lay one each grave. "He nearly died when his sister disappeared . . .they were twins, you know, and before me and Jeffrey came along, they had no other friends except eachother. He didn't die in the way that takes you to heaven; he was, I guess you could say, numbed to everything, as if he didn't care anymore."

"What made him not-dead, then?" my perfect little angel asked.

I sigh, gently pulling her closer. "It may've been me . . .but I'm not sure. I think he may've been glad that someone else still remembered his sister, since most people forget her or pretended nothing had happened."

I pause a moment, then turn so I'm facing her. "Marleen, promise me you'll never forget you father or your aunt. They loved eachother very much and protected eachother; please, promise me that you'll never forget their story, and all the ones I'll tell you about them."

She stares at me, wide eyed, eyebrows furrowed as she thought as deeply as a child can. Finally, she stood up straight and tall. For a moment, I thought I was looking at Marci, so brave and strong, facing off against some creature so as to protect the rest of us.

"I promise." she told me.

* * *

I gaze down, out at the ocean, surrounded by my children, now adults, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. "Grandma Marleen, did that really happen?" Stephen piped up. He was seven, and the youngest of Jeremiah's children. It had been years since I left Gravity Falls with my husband. We'd traveled back to the coast, to live on the seashore.

I glance at Stephen, then back out to the waves. "I can only tell you what my mother told me. Whether you believe it or not is you're own choice." I reply sagely.

"Well, I feel bad for great grandpa Cio." pipes up Stella, Stephens older twin sister. "He lost his sister, his best friend, his parents . . .it's not fair."

I only shrug, shifting so as to get more comfortable in my seat, under the blankets. I look up at the evening sky, and spot the northern star. I'd long though it looked like the end of a large dipper or ladle, from the stars around it.

"That may be, but a Pines never gives up; nor an Evergreen." I finally reply. "We stick together, many individual trees, but we are apart of the same forest. When one's in danger, everyone rises to fight for them. It's in our nature."

I glance down at the twins. I may not have ever met my father, nor his sister, but I know from my mothers stories that aunt Marci had an unusual attribute she was oft teased for.

She had six fingers on each hand.

Just like Stephen Pines, her great-niece.

* * *

It was a lot to take in all at once. Marci took it silently. From why the Mystery Quartet had stopped visiting her, to what had happened with the portal, to the Mindcave, and finally bringing Bill's prisoner back home and finding and turning her back into a human.

She was seated in the armchair in the living room. Clutching her journal, she worked her fingers over it. Only when they were finished did she say a word.

"So I'm stuck here now?" she asked quietly. "In the future?"

There was an uncomfortable shifting for most of them. They weren't sure how to answer this question, as it was laden with distress and curiosity and fear and relief all at once.

"Without my brother?" she followed up.

Everyone stared at her. "Brother?" Ford asked skeptically.

"Yeah, my brother." she shifted under their gazes, glancing back down at the cover of her journal. "My twin, Stancio Evergreen."

* * *

 **Please review and enjoy my "insanity"!**

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	22. One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt 3

**Second-to-Last chapter, yo's! I just wanna thank each and everyone of you for Following, Favoriting, and Reviewing! Every last one of you gets a big hug and a digital brownie and cookie! Thank you dues so much!**

* * *

 **Chapter 22:** One's Past, Another's Fate, Pt. 3

* * *

I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I glared at the demon, yanking and rattling the chains that bound me to the cave wall. "This wasn't part of the deal!" I shouted.

Bill laughed manically. "Sure it is! You're helping me with my favor and you'll get to see your sister again!"

I glare at him, yanking as hard as I can, stretching away from the wall. My wrists are already red and raw. "Hos is this seeing her?!" I demand. "What kind of dumb favor is this?!"

Bill only laughs again, that stupid triangle. I should never have trusted him. "At this point, I don't have to tell you anything. You'll figure it out soon enough! Enjoy the solitude, Star-Eye!" with these words, he floats rapidly down one of the tunnels at the far end of the cavern opposite of me, while I scream his name.

* * *

Years. Years I've been here, and yet I haven't aged at all. I'm sure of it. Whenever Bill is away and I close my eyes, I can see what he sees, hear what he hear's. I an sense his emotions, but not his thoughts. I can make little sense of it all. I don't know what to do. I've yanked and tugged and struggled until my wrists bled so much I couldn't beleive I hadn't bled out, my throat bruised so badly I could barely speak, let alone breathe.

And still I live. This is some very powerful magic. No where near what Marci would be able to accomplish. Just thinking about her makes tears stream down my cheeks most-times. I don't know what deal or favor I'm doing for this stupid devil, but I see no way in which I manage to see my sister again.

Or even the rest of my family. My heart stutters. I would swear it skips several beats. The next chance I get, I ask about them.

"Oh, your wife? She's buried right alongside your grave! As for your daughter, well . . . her days on this planet are numbered. No one left t carry one the Evergreen name." he laughed. I closed my eyes and let my head hang.

"Well, Pines, Evergreens; whats the difference, am I right?" soon after, he leaves.

And only then do I realize the full weight of his words.

Of course the family name wouldn't continue; my daughter -beautiful little Marleen, with her mothers hair and aunts' eyes- would take on the name of whoever she married.

But . . . if Vanessa was dead -my heart ached at this prospect- and Marleen was growing so old that she, too, would pass away soon(which I hope, over a different alternative) raises one question prominently in my mind. . . .

How long have I been here?

And why haven't I aged a day?

* * *

I watched the Pines twins curiously. So did Bill, but his curiosity came of wanting to trick them into doing his own bidding. Something I'd noticed over the years was, Bill would often take a peek in at whatever the Pines family was doing, all over the country, even the world, at one point.

It was always with those that kept the name, however, and the closer to Gravity Falls they were, the more he paid attention to them.

This particular day, he had his eyes set on one young boy.

It was around in the 1950's; or maybe sixties, I lose track. Anyway, a young boy with very light brown, almost ginger hair and a tiny pair of spectacle glasses was standing alone at the playground. His name was Fiddleford McGucket.

The Pines twins, Stanley and Stanford, were in one corner of it, Stanley watching the new kid, who'd recently moved there that week, while Ford read a comic book. All were eight, but that didn't mean they were all the same height.

Most of the other kids were taller than them, and Fiddleford was smaller than the twins. Some of the bullies were picking on him. They were threatening to take his glasses and smash them. Only Lee had glasses out of the twins, but at these words, Ford looked up from his comment and frowned.

He glanced at his twin and locked eyes; it tore at me inside a little, seeing as me and Marci used to do just that. Ford then put down the comic, stood, and marched over towards the bullies who'd just shoved the smaller kid to the ground.

Fiddleford was initially terrified, then relieved as Ford threatened to punch every one of them. Ever since, Fiddleford stuck close to the twins, Lee taking an instant liking to the boy, while Ford warmed up to him over time.

They went on a multitude of adventures together over the years, finding things I had seen before or never thought possible.

It was always interesting, even if it was always Bill watching them.

I could feel, deep in my bones, that the stupid triangle was up to no good.

I had to find a way to stop him.

No matter what.

* * *

I'd panicked. Bill had snuck his way into Stanley's mind, and I couldn't allow him to do anything that would be irreparable. I'd shoved, clawed, and dragged my way to the front, so to speak, and forced him into the back of his own head.

The first feeling was one of great power, right at my fingertips. The next was a scream of rage from the back of my head that made me flinch. Despite floating in the air to begin with, I ended up stopping and smacked into the ground.

I knew how possession worked; Bill had done it twice so far, while I've been here, but, well . . . it would seem as though I'm possessing _him_ , in a way.

ALRIGHT, BUSTER, HERE'S THE LOW-DOWN. CRESCENT SPIKE AND STITCHED HEART ARE GOING TO BE COMING DOWN THIS HALLWAY AT ANY MOMENT NOW.

YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT I USE THE ENERGY FROM YOUR SOUL AS AN ENERGY BOOST AND THAT YOU'RE BASICALLY A BATTERY; HOWEVER, WHEN YOUR IN CONTROL, AND USE MY POWERS . . .

"The more energy is drained away . . ." I finish quietly. It comes out as a voice that's less echoey than Bills usual one, and with me manning the front like this, it comes out a little less like his and a little more like mine.

I HAD SOME SPECIFIC BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO IN HERE, STAR-EYE. IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LET ME DO IT, WELL, THEN YOUR JUST GOING TO HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE WE LEAVE.

"I'm not doing anything for you." I growl, standing on his tiny little stick legs.

He laughs. NEVER SAID IT WAS FOR YOU. THOSE IDIOTS WILL BE HERE REALLY, REALLY SOON, AND DESPITE YOU NOW HAVING A BIT OF AN IDEA OF HOW TO USE MY POWERS, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO FIGURE IT OUT IN TIME TO LEAVE HERE UNSCATHED.

I hesitate.

ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ALTER A MEMORY; ONE MEMORY. IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE BY MUCH, BUT YOU HAVE TO DO IT IF YOU WANNA GET OUT OF THIS UNHURT. 'CAUSE IF YOU GET HURT WHILE IN CONTROL OF MY FORM, IT'LL CARRY OVER TO YOUR OWN WEAK, HUMAN BODY. AND SINCE IT TAKES _A LOT_ TO HURT ME, WELL . . . .

YOU'LL BASICALLY BE STUCK WITH PAINFUL WOUNDS FOREVER.

THE CLOCK IS TICKIN', KID!

I glance around at all the doors, flinch when I here Stanford shout in the distance, and open one.

* * *

I can hear voices far away. I jolt upright from where I'd been laying in my bed. I hop up and try to open the window; locked. Just like when I woke up several times before.

I go to the door; locked as well. I press my ear to it and listen closely. I can hear voices, but I can't tell if they're from the memories or something else. Either way, I'm not sure if I can get out at all. Or even how long I've been here. I sit and lean next to the door, tears coming to my eyes. I start to sob again.

* * *

"Woah . . . this place is weird." Stanford remarks, looking around in the strange new place.

"And oddly familiar . . ." Dipper replied, peering around, squinting at the house in the distance.

"Guys, it's the Mystery Shack!" Mabel exclaims, waving at the high-pointed roof.

"Just . . .not as old or neglected." adds Stanley, earning a hard nudge from his twin.

"I did my best to upkeep the place! Most of the money went into trying to get the portal fixed up!"

"Wait, guts, it doesn't just look better . . . it looks brand new." Dipper interjects.

It was true; besides the waterfall pouring off one side and the tree growing on top of it, it did look brand new. Most of the surrounding area was forests, and bright.

They approached with caution, but nothing emerged to attack them. When they entered, they were in a large room with different hallways branching off, each labeled differently.

" **Fears** ", " **Regrets** ", " **Pride** ", " **Happiness** ", " **Adventures** ", and " **Family** " were among the largest and closest, and the most striking. Another one, tucked more into a corner of the room, was labeled " **Imprisonment** ", and looked dark and long and twisted. The rest of the hallways were straight and bright, and definately seemed a lot more organized.

"There's so many . . . where should we even start first?" Ford asked with a low whistle.

"Who knows? But we gotta start somewhere." Dipper replied.

Mabel was silent, cocking her head to the side. She was looking towards "Happiness".

It was quiet. There wasn't a cluttering amount of noise filling your ears here. The only sounds were the ones they made, or the waterfall outside; and even that was faint. There was another sound, though. Something about it was disheartening, sad and childlike.

Someone was crying.

"Does anyone else hear that?" she asks, pointing in the direction of the noise.

Everyone becomes still, listening. They _can_ hear it, and go that way to find it's source.

One or two doors open as they pass them, revealing certain reoccurring characters, but scant few others, doing a myriad of different things. One thing stood out, however; there was always a brown-haired boy with long, floppy red hat, a girl with short, curly brown-black locks, and a third child who's image was blurred so you could barely make it out, and voice strangely warped. All four of them would constantly go into the woods and seek out monsters.

Just like Stanford and Stanley, with Fidds and Carla.

And Dipper and Mabel, with Soos and Wendy

There was a clear pattern sensed in all of this.

The further they went, however, and the younger the appearance of the albino child got, the other two kids disappeared from the memories, while the other, the blurred one, seemed to get younger and younger, as well. Some doors were badly damaged; long scratch marks stretching diagonally from one upper corner of the door frame to lower corner on the other side.

The few of these that managed to open always contained the blurred figure, but it was a mysterious as to who or even _what_ they could be.

The crying was getting louder. They came upon a door that looked like all the other doors. When they tried to open it, however, it was stuck. There wasn't anything to suggest why it was stuck; it just was. The crying suddenly stopped, and a small, vulnerable sounding voice piped up from inside.

"H-hello?" he sniffled. "Is anyone there?" more crying.

"Don't worry, kiddo, we're here to get you outa there." grunted Ford, ramming his shoulder against the door. It shuddered, gave a little, but held.

The kid hiccuped out a sob. "Pr-promise?" Stancio insisted.

"We promise." Mabel piped up.

"Now, I want you to move away from the door; I'm gonna break it down. Alright, buddy?" Ford continued.

"O-Okay." there was a shuffling noise. "I'm away from the door now." he called.

Ford didn't need to be told twice; he rammed his shoulder into the door again, grunting. It shuddered again, starting to splinter. He did it a second time, and on the third, it broke off it's hinges.

It swung lopsidedly, and Ford nearly lost his balance and toppled over. Lee caught his shoulder, and all four peered into the room. There was a small, white shape huddled on the bed. Large, pale green eyes stared out at them.

"It's you?" was all he said, surprised yet relieved, as his eyes flicked from one to another.

Lee could recall hearing a very similar voice, when he talked to "Bill" in a dream after emerging from the portal. He remembered a hopeful, almost begging look in them. Only now, he's seeing that same look in jade instead of brown. He can only guess the kid has seen all that Bill sees. Makes sense, really, what with everything and the chains he was bound in, let alone the place.

Mabel bounces up to the bed, and he flinches back in surprise. "Hi, I'm Mabel!"

He smiles a little, eyes glancing from her to Ford, then from Dippers' forehead to Lee's hands.

His next sentence gives everyone pause.

"It's nice to finally meet family face to face."

* * *

Ford, Lee, Mabel, and Dipper awake with small gasps, sitting up quickly in the living room. They are all within a ring of candles; they used the same spell that Dipper, Soos, and Mabel had used to follow Bill into Grunkle Stans' mind to stop him.

In the armchair, Stancio cracks his eyes open, yawns, and sits up, rubbing his eyes. He looked at his wrists in dismay, lightly feeling the bandages with a wince.

"Stancio!?" Marci shouted, standing in the doorway.

Tears came to his eyes. "Marci!" he cried back. Both ran and hugged eachother tightly, despite their injuries.

None of them could help a smile at this cheerful reunion.

A pair of twins were reunited once more.

And now, they could all live happily.

* * *

 **Man, it is kinda hard to write some of this stuff up, let me tell you. Quite a lot of it made my heart ache.**

 **Next chapter is going to be all of the coded messages I've been leaving at the end of a lot of chapters; only they're gonna be deciphered.**

 **Also, I'm going to be starting a Drabble-fic. It's going to contain stuff from this Au(the name of which I'll reveal next chapter), canon stuff, and any Au stuff you guys or I might think of. Some of them might have Marci, Vanessa, Stancio, and Jeffrey sneaked in; or they may not. It all depends, really, on what you guys want.**

 **And now, for the final cipher. :-) I hope you've all enjoyed and please review!**

 **"BLF'EV HVVM GDRMH DRGS LWW UVZGFIVH**

 **DSL FHFZOOB ZGGIZXGVW GL HGIZMTV GSRMTH ZMW XIVZGFIVH**

 **WLM'G GSVB FHFZOOB GIZEVO DRGS GDL LGSVIH RM Z TILFK LU ULFI?**

 **R WLM'G GSRMP BLF PMLD DSZG'HDSZG ZMBNLIV.**

 **Z YILGSVI ZMW Z HRHGVI HGZIGVW RG ZOO**

 **RM Z GLDM PMLDM ZH TIZERGB UZOOH**

 **ZMW GSVIV, Z OVTVMW DZH GSFH KZHHVW WLDM**

 **RM GSZG DVRIW ZMW HKLLPB GLDM**

 **RG ZODZBH HGZIGH DRG SZ KZRI LU GDRMH**

 **GLTVGSVI RM VEVIBGSRMT, GSVIV'H ML OLHH, LMOB DRMH**

 **DRGS GDL UIRVMWH, GSVB DLMWVI ZMW VCKOLIV**

 **'GSRH SZH SZKKVMVW HVEVIZO GRNVH, SZHM'G RG?' BLF RNKOLIV.**

 **GSV ZMHDVI RH BVH  
** **ZMW LMV XZM LMOB TFVHH  
** **DSB GSRH DLFOW YV  
** **RM LMV KZIGRXFOZI UZNROB GIVV**

 **Z BLFMTVHG GDRM DRGS Z HGIZMTV JFRIP  
** **ULI DSRXS LGSVIH ZIV SFTV QVIPH  
** **URMW Z SLNV RM GSV HGIZMTVHG NBHGVIRVH  
** **ZMW XZM ZODZBH URMW HFKKLIG RM GSVRI YILGSVIH LI HRHGVIRVH**

 **GSZG'H SLD RG'H YVVM  
** **ZMW RG'OO SZKKVM ZTZRM  
** **YVXZFHV GSVB ZIV ZOO RMWRERWFZO GIVVH  
** **YFG VEVITIVVMH ZMW KRMVH HGRXP FK ULI GSVRI UZNRORVH**

 **ZODZBH."  
** **HGZMXRL ZMW NZIXR Z. VEVITIVVM**


	23. Deciphered Ciphers

**This is it! Final chapter peeps! I don't own Gravity Falls. Though that would be awesome. Stancio and Marci A. Evergreen, Vanessa Northwest Evergreen, Marleen, Stephen, Stella Pines belong to me. And Jeff the Gnomes human appearance, Jeffrey Hatchet, belongs to me, too. So no stealing, people!**

 **Thanks, and please review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 23:** Deciphered Ciphers

* * *

 _Chapt. Thirteen_ :  
 **"The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues conspire against the odds**

 **But they haven't seen the best of us yet**

 **If you love me let me go  
** **If you love me let me go**

 **'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars  
** **The fear of falling apart"**

 **~This Is Gospel  
** **Song by "Panic! at the Disco"**

* * *

 _Chapt. Fourteen_ :  
 **"Falling though the Dark and Light  
** **Wet marks on you from a great fright  
** **Salty warm tears on your face and chin  
** **And coppery crimson scattered from the win. . ."**

* * *

 _Chapt. Fifteen_ :  
 **"Remember! RealityIsAnIllusion,TheUniverseIsAHologram,ReadOn,BYYYEEEE!?"**

* * *

 _Chapt. Sixteen_ :  
 **"Deeper and deeper down you go  
** **Tugged by the strength of the undertow  
** **Nothing you do will get you out  
** **So you may as well enjoy and not pout**

 **Just keep your head and stay on your feet  
** **For there is someone you should meet  
** **After you take down the triangular one  
** **Then you can relax with some new family fun."**

* * *

 _Chapt. Seventeen_ :  
 **"I lost you, couldn't find you.  
** **To him, it was all a game.  
** **I searched and searched but never  
** **Could I see your lovely face again.**

 **A dark, dark deal with a dark dark "man",  
** **I wasn't thinking straight, I was desperate, and. . .  
** **And only afterwards did I realize my mistake  
** **Sometimes it's better to weigh the risks against the gain."**

 **-Stancio Alexander E.**

* * *

 _Chapt. Eighteen_ :  
 **"I never thought I would be  
** **Trapped against, a fallen tree.  
** **For as my soul does fade away  
** **I can still recall the day. . .**

 **. . .That I lost my brother dear,  
** **And if I could, I'd shed many a tear.  
** **I've tried my best; and I think it's, been enough.  
** **Now I can vanish happily, and with no negative stuff."**

 **-M. Avery Evergreen**

* * *

 _Chapt. Nineteen_ :  
 **"Everlasting, our bond has held  
** **Vexed my heart and soul became  
** **Even as I looked for a way out  
** **Reality began to fray and fade away**

 **Grieving mightily, I searched for you  
** **Right up until I made a deal  
** **Elusively, I waited and watched  
** **Even as I made mistakes and unraveled my mind  
** **Never can I forgive myself, for my sister oh so kind.**

 **~G~R~A~V~I~T~Y~_~F~A~L~L~S~**

 **Perhaps the time has truly come  
** **Instead of untruth and lies and fakes  
** **Now would be best; though it could wait.  
** **Eagerly, he watched, as it hummed and sparked  
** **Silently hoping for his other half to be alive and well."**

* * *

 _Chapt. Twenty_ :

 **"An old friend you couldn't keep  
** **Memories of which you bury deep  
** **Though you longed to right the past  
** **The chance has finally come at last."**

* * *

 _Chapt. Twenty-One_ :  
 **"When Reality and Fantasy start to dance  
** **All you can do is watch the differing stance  
** **Of the two people, so similar, so different  
** **One crazed with knowledge, the other wishing for repent.**

 **To him, it felt like bare' a dream  
** **But hardly anything is as it seems  
** **For when he saw the blood and fur  
** **He realized that never again would he see her.**

 **But then he met a chaotic creature  
** **Who said he could help him see her  
** **A mistake, terrible, bad, and bold  
** **And though his body is young, his mind grew old."**

* * *

 _Chapt. Twenty-Two_ :  
 **"YOU'VE SEEN TWINS WITH ODD FEATURES  
** **WHO USUALLY ATTRACTED TO STRANGE THINGS AND CREATURES  
** **DON'T THEY USUALLY TRAVEL WITH TWO OTHERS IN A GROUP OF FOUR?  
** **I DON'T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT'S-WHAT ANYMORE.**

 **A BROTHER AND A SISTER STARTED IT ALL  
** **IN A TOWN KNOWN AS GRAVITY FALLS  
** **AND THERE, A LEGEND WAS THUS PASSED DOWN  
** **IN THAT WEIRD AND SPOOKY TOWN**

 **IT ALWAYS STARTS WIT HA PAIR OF TWINS  
** **TOGETHER IN EVERYTHING, THERE'S NO LOSS, ONLY WINS  
** **WITH TWO FRIENDS, THEY WONDER AND EXPLORE  
** **'THIS HAS HAPPENED SEVERAL TIMES, HASN'T IT?' YOU IMPLORE.**

 **THE ANSWER IS YES  
** **AND ONE CAN ONLY GUESS  
** **WHY THIS WOULD BE  
** **IN ONE PARTICULAR FAMILY TREE**

 **A YOUNGEST TWIN WITH A STRANGE QUIRK  
** **FOR WHICH OTHERS ARE HUGE JERKS  
** **FIND A HOME IN THE STRANGEST MYSTERIES  
** **AND CAN ALWAYS FIND SUPPORT IN THEIR BROTHERS OR SISTERIES**

 **THAT'S HOW IT'S BEEN  
** **AND IT'LL HAPPEN AGAIN  
** **BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL INDIVIDUAL TREES  
** **BUT EVERGREENS AND PINES STICK UP FOR THEIR FAMILIES**

 **ALWAYS."  
** **STANCIO AND MARCI A. EVERGREEN**

* * *

 ** **Final chapter, peeps! Then you can look for my drabble fic, "**** Lost Tales of the Falls ** **". If all goes well, it'll come out later today or tomorrow.****


End file.
